Look Into The Mirror Part One: The Fellowship
by Aislin Finn
Summary: CPTRS 1-3 rewritten. Story has undergone a big change, is now longer. Look Into The Mirror is the story of Delwyn(used to be Jacqueline), her arrival into ME and the personal quest she must fulfill in order for Sauron's complete downfall.
1. Arrivals

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Delwyn (Vanyalosse), Tatianna and anything not found in any of the works of the great Professor Tolkien. All places, people, things and events found in his works are his and his only, and I make no profit by using them herein. I've used a blend of story and movie elements, you have been warned.

Tatianna gazed up the mountain's jagged face looming over her, its shadow cast on and behind her as the sun rose behind it. It had bee a long two weeks, difficult and trying, not to mention the seemingly endless hike through the deep, forested ravine. She had heard many tales all throughout her life of the miles long ravines surrounding the tall, mysterious mountain whose peak was lost in the clouds. There was not a single soul who was ever able to reach its peak, or discover its origins or anything much about it; travelers got lost in its vast ravines, and if they were lucky enough to make it through (providing they didn't turn back), none made it far up the mountain. Tatianna smiled; they were probably just exaggerating because they had failed. This wasn't hard at all. Not bothering to stop for another rest, she pushed her backpack up and proceeded to climb upwards.

The rock face did not get easier. Many jagged rocks, both big and small littered the face of the mountain. It was hard to gauge just what was stable and what wasn't. Large rocks would slip out from under her, while little ones proved to be sturdy footholds. She slipped a couple of times, knocking her shins and calves against the rocks, but she grew ever so close to the peak that she could not stop. She had to get to the top, had to discover what things grew and lived there. It would be perfect – the first person to top the mountain peak. The fame and renown that would come with that became her driving force to the top. Her steps quickened, her climb turned into a quick step, the quick steps became a jog, the jog became a run, and a run became a sprint. The mists grew closer and closer, her path becoming obscured by them as they grew around her. Then suddenly she realized - no one was really clear on how high the mountain went up, the mists never having let up thus not revealing its peak. She could run out of air if the peak went high enough, as she wasn't really prepared for a thin atmosphere. Still, Tatianna had to know what was up here.

The mists were thick, and Tatianna nearly lost her way. But soon the mists cleared to obscure the world below her, and she found herself on the border of a lush, almost ageless forest. She stopped dead in her tracks; how could something like this thrive at this altitude! These trees were larger than the oldest firs she knew of that still grew in the world and different from all the many other trees she'd ever seen. They seemed almost…alive. Though hesitant by this strange sight she wandered into the trees, entranced by the birdsong above, sunlight glowing through the canopy. She wasn't paying attention where she exactly was heading, having intended initially to stay along the borders so as not to get lost in this strange forest, but as soon as she entered the boughs of the forest everything aside from the strange beauty of the forest faded from her mind. Wandering aimlessly through the wood, she almost didn't hear the approaching hoof beats until the horse and its rider were nearly upon her.

She whipped around to see a white dappled horse, its mane dove grey and its tack of a strange origin. Its rider was clothed mostly in white, the only other colours being silver-grey around the bodice of her dress and a cloak of golden brown. Her belt, which glimpsed out at the side of her dress, was also of a gold fabric. The hood was up, but her raven black hair flowed out unbound down the front of her dress. Her sleeves covered her hands and some of her fingertips, concealing any sort of jewelry she might have been wearing, but a chain hung from her neck. Tatianna gazed up at her, surprised. The lady smiled.

"So you have finally found your way here, have you?" she asked knowingly. "I have been expecting you for some time."

Tatianna's brow furrowed. "Expecting me? How could you possibly be expecting me? And why are you here? How did you get here? No one lives on this mountain."

"Well as you can plainly see, I do live on this mountain, as do a handful of others who serve me," the woman replied. "And now the time has come for me to depart this abode, which is why I have allowed you to ascend as high as you have."

She dropped her backpack at her feet. "What do you mean? You can't possibly keep people off this mountain if they wish to ascend it. Just because I've been the only one strong enough to make it up here doesn't mean you can try and make up some lame excuse to downplay my accomplishment, and expect me to believe it."

The lady chuckled. "Oh believe me I can keep people off and I have. It has been vital that I keep this place a secret from the world, and have succeeded in that task. But despite my departure, this place must remain secret, and I have chosen you to replace me."

Tatianna could do nothing but stare incredulously at this lady. Was she completely mad! Everyone should be seeing this place, documenting its resources, studying the plants and creatures that were contained in this forest. The lady shook her head slightly.

"They would destroy it in the process. This place would be quickly exploited, as would everything in it. Hoards of people would strive to come to this place, maybe even build homes here, and millennia of work will have been in vain. No one must know of this place."

She seemed startled at her answer, wondering if she had spoken her thoughts aloud and not realized it. The woman smiled, and turned her horse. "Come, and I shall explain to you why."

The horse trotted off forward and Tatianna followed, her confusion and curiousity having gotten the better of her. Aside from the bird song and the hoof beats of the horse there was silence. No one else was about, no creatures scurried through the underbrush – not even the birds overhead allowed themselves to be seen. She wondered how anyone could live in a place so alive and yet so quiet at the same time. A multitude of questions kept tumbling in her mind, things she wished to know, yet the longer she was with this woman the more she was beginning to somehow sense the power and the regal nature tied to her. It almost seemed inappropriate to just go ahead and speak to her without being given permission to do so. Very quickly she was regretting making the climb up this mountain. A long and deep desire for fame and wealth, and where had it gotten her? Trapped on a mountaintop with people and in a place that felt like she had stepped out of reality. But her definition of reality was about to change.

The trees opened up to encircle a stone courtyard framed by a rounded arch supported by large pillars and more stonewall. The craftsmanship was astounding and aged, speaking of artisans long since passed. The clip-clop of the horse's hooves called to a servant who came out to the pair. A tall man with long dark hair clad in creamy beige robes walked up to the lady's horse with not even a glimpse to Tatianna, took hold of the bridle and held out a hand to aid the lady down from her mount. She watched the man approach, taken by the strange beauty of this man but noticed one strange thing when he stopped next to the horse – his ears were pointed. Her brow furrowed as she watched the lady accept his hand, and once off her mount she looked back to her and gave her head a nod, indicating for Tatianna to follow. She almost didn't see the nod, being momentarily overwhelmed by the strange man, her current surroundings and the soft colours of the manor before her, but she shook her head and followed as instructed. The house was unlike any she had ever seen; few walls, many more pillars and arches, the rooms flowing from one into the next. They turned one corner and were greeted by an entire corridor of paintings, which ran along the outside of the manor. Each was a different scene with no relation to the world she knew, people she knew nothing of. Yet as they walked, the images became strangely familiar, as did the people in them. Tatianna stopped at one specific painting of a man dressed in white at the top of a great staircase, a crown in his hands. Another man, dressed in royal garb, was kneeling before him, and soldiers with armour bearing a tree and stars surrounding the steps and lining the on looking crowd.

"That," she stammered. "But that can't be that…"

The lady paused, and turned to face her. "What cannot be what?"

Tatianna pointed, flustered. "This!"

She gazed at the picture one long moment. "The Coronation of King Elessar. What is wrong with that?"

"But why would you have a picture of Aragorn's Coronation!"

"I was there," she replied nonchalantly, turning to continue down the hall. "I was at many of the events in these images, hence why they are here. Others were images taken from the halls of Imladris, to preserve their memory before that haven finally succumbed to time. You will see them further down."

Tatianna was not convinced. Things just weren't adding up, and she was getting more questions than answers to satisfy them.

"But that doesn't make any sense," she replied angrily. "How could you have been there? You would have to be-"

"Immortal?" the lady finished, stopping and turning to face her. "Yes, I am immortal. My heritage and past allowed me to choose my path in life to a degree, and so I chose immortality."

"Well I don't believe you," Tatianna stated, though not entirely sure if that statement was true. She had always wanted to believe in the tales and legends she heard growing up, but they had occurred so long ago no one was clear on what the truth was anymore. But yet here she was, presented with real images straight out of those legends she knew from childhood, and she couldn't get her mind around it. The lady gazed long and hard at her, almost as if reading her thoughts.

"If I tell you my story, will you believe me?"

"I might."

She smiled. "Very well. We shall go to my library, and I shall tell you."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and soon they entered a room lined with bookcases and with various desks and chairs of different design scattered throughout the room. Books and parchment scattered the tops of the tables. The lady indicated for her to sit in one of the chairs, to which Tatianna did so, and the lady removed her cloak. Long dark hair cascaded down her back now that it was free of the confines of the cloak, and pointed ears peaked out from the tresses.

"So…what is your name?" Tatianna asked, her voice breaking the silence. The lady continued walking about, draping her cloak over a chair.

"My _epesse_ is Vanyalosse, which I have been called and known by for many a long year now."

"What's an _epesse_?"

"A name given to a loved one by a loved one."

"Is he here, the person who gave you this?"

Vanyalosse stopped at a waist high display case, her smile gone. "No. He sailed a long time ago. He is with our kin far West."

Tatianna looked down, almost ashamed of asking. Clearly it was a painful memory. A moment of silence passed between them. She looked up to see Vanyalosse idly outlined the case, focused on its contents.

"The story I am about to tell you is of a mortal woman, though unlike you she possessed lineage that separated her from the place in which she grew up, even the peoples to which she was connected. Her beginnings lie in another world where she lived in peace until the age of six, when her mother was killed, and she was left with an abusive father…"

_Delwyn sat up in her room, her body heaving with sobs. Tears made finger-like rivers down her face to collect in the fabric of her bed sheets when they had fallen from her face. He had done it again tonight - struck her back with his belt. She couldn't understand why he hated her so much; she did everything she could to help keep the storm that was his anger at bay, and yet he hated her so much. No matter how hard she cleaned, he could always find a fingerprint on the wooden furniture, or a piece of lint on the carpet. He had eagle's eyes and no flaw, great or small, escaped them._

_She shifted her body around so that she was lying down on her pillows. It amazed her how after all these years, she still felt very much like a child. She may have been nearly twenty, she truly didn't feel much older than her early teens, if that. He drove so much fear into her heart that it felt numb, a block of stone inside her chest. Her memories of family and love had all but faded away, and she wondered if she would ever come to a point in her life where she would feel those things ever again in her life. _

A knock at the door startled her out of her reveire. Her father didn't get up to answer it; she knew he wouldn't. She would have heard him anyway. Stumbling off her bed, she quietly walked down the stairs and to the door. There was a mirror on the left wall adjacent to the closet by the front door. She stopped, not because of her distraught appearance but because she thought she saw two figures pass in the reflection with her, like she were walking past them. Yet a second look revealed nothing but her. A second knock came to the door, this time more impatient, wanting to be opened. She shook her head, walked to the door and opened it. It was two policemen, here to arrest her father. He had gotten into a fight at a local bar (which explained what fueled his anger even more when he came home), stabbed someone with his pocketknife and crashed his car into someone else's.

"He's up those stairs," she answered, pointing behind her. "The living room is right at the top. He's in there."

Both policemen looked at her, then eachother. The situation went deeper than anticipated. One of them called for another car, then they both went upstairs to make their arrest. Thrashing, swearing and objects breaking could be heard above the policemen's' voices. Not long after they went up, another set of policemen came to the door. They asked her questions about her father, and she told them everything. The abuse, the torture and even all the nights she spent locked up in the half-finished bathroom downstairs. After about thirty minutes they all left, including her father who spat at her as he was dragged away. Reminded of the earlier chaos with him and the  
policemen, she didn't even want to see what the living room looked like.

Sighing, Delwyn went upstairs and started packing her gym bag; the police suggested that she stay with someone she trusted. At the moment she couldn't think of anyone, because her father never let her go out. She knew she couldn't stay, just in case by some turn of bad luck he came home.

After a few minutes, her bag sat on her bed ready to go. But she felt that she was forgetting something - her mother's locket, given to her when her mother died. She searched through her dresser, the clothes on the floor, everything. Amongst the furniture in her room, a large mirror was propped up against a wall. Oddly enough, many of her clothes were in front of it. Jacqueline stepped on a small pile of clothes, particularly her basketball shorts, just as she had bent down to grab the chain to the locket. She slipped and fell backward, her back parallel to the mirror. But instead of making contact with the mirror she fell through it into a world she didn't recognize. On her way through she grabbed the edges of her mirror, a desperate attempt to save herself - to no avail. Her hands slipped and the mirror shook, fell and broke, cutting off the link from her world to this world. Now she was stuck.


	2. Meeting with Elrond

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Delwyn (Vanyalosse), Tatianna and anything not found in any of the works of the great Professor Tolkien. All places, people, things and events found in his works are his and his only, and I make no profit by using them herein. I've used a blend of story and movie elements, you have been warned.

Chapter 2 - Meeting with Elrond

"How can someone fall through a mirror?" Tatianna asked.

"Anything is possible if one's magic is strong enough," Vanyalosse replied, beckoning her over. "There were two powers at work in the world. One is kept in here."

Tatianna got up and walked over to the case, a gasp escaping her lips. "The Rings of Power!"

"Yes," Vanyalosse nodded. "All twenty of them. The Seven were the last to come together, with four being lost. Many years were spent searching for them, as it was feared what might happen if they were found by others. They have all been housed here for safekeeping. The Lady Galadriel saw the coming of Delwyn, and though she was unable to prevent it, she was able to ensure that when she did cross, it was in a safe place. A great risk it was, being a bearer of the Three, but had she not the outcome may have been dire indeed. Though not even she could see where it would bring Delwyn to."

Tatianna frowned. "But there is only nineteen. You said there were twenty."

Vanyalosse smiled, and indicated for her to sit back down so that she could continue the tale…

_Delwyn landed hard on the smooth floor, the sound echoing through the large hall in which she found herself. The mirror before her was three times the size of the one that had been in her room, yet though its size awed her, she didn't want to be here. She had no idea where she was, or what the people here were like, but she didn't want to find out. Hastily she stood up and put her hand to the glass; it was solid, hard, cold. There was no way back. Panic set in her face as she continued to paw at the mirror, hoping that by some miracle she could find some way back. It was no use, and she didn't know what to do now. Tears sprang to her eyes._

"_My lady? Are you well?" a voice to her right asked. She turned to see a tall man, or what she took to be a man, blond and dressed in robes of sapphire and silver grey. His face was calm, patient, and she felt nothing but kindness in his presence. Her hand dropped to her side._

"_I…I don't know," she began, gazing back into the mirror and seeing her own reflection. "I don't know where I am."_

"_You are in the House of Elrond, the First and Last Homely House," he provided, taking a couple of steps forward. "Mortal men know it by the name of Rivendell; we call it Imladris." He gazed sympathetically at her, sensing her troubled mind. "Do you know how you came to be here?"_

_She shook her head, feeling a little stupid that she didn't have the answer. The tall man smiled and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder._

"_What is your name, my lady?"_

"_Delwyn. Delwyn Warwick."_

_He smiled. "I am Glorfindel, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." He held out his arm to her. "Come, I shall take you to the Lord of this house. I am sure he will be able to aid you, whatever your situation."_

_She warily took his arm, amazed by the kindness this person was showing her. A small part of her was still apprehensive that this was all too good to be true, that she was being too trusting and she was about to find herself in inescapable trouble. Yet as she walked through the halls with Glorfindel, she began to find the possibility of anyone being mean or cruel here impossible. This, Imladris as it was called by its own people, was too beautiful, too peaceful. Others they passed in the halls nodded courteously to them, and Glorfindel nodded back with the same courtesy. When they saw her, an amazed look graced their fair faces. Whether this was good or not, Delwyn didn't know, but their smiles never faded, so she tried to be optimistic._

_They came at last to a wide-open room filled with furniture whose like she had never seen before. Two figures stood in the room; one, an old man dressed in rugged robes standing at a window, and another standing further away near a table, younger he seemed and yet not so, and he looked in the old man's direction. Little did she know that this was Lord Elrond and Gandalf the Grey, watching from Elrond's study as expected company began to arrive. The first to arrive was Boromir, son of the Stewart of Gondor, riding one of the great steeds of the Rohirrim. The wonder on his face could not be missed. Not long after his arrival the delegation from Mirkwood rode into the courtyard, the son of King Thranduil at their head. No wonder such as Boromir's was in his eyes but a sense of familiarity; as if he had come home and was glad that he had done so. Last, since they had so far to come and only on foot, the dwarven delegation led by the dwarf Gloin, who despite his dislike for Elven kind had visited the haven twice before and felt it only proper that he lead the delegation to this place. Along with the councilors he brought with him, Gloin also brought his son Gimli. Though he had no love for the elves because of the imprisonment his father suffered at the hands of the Mirkwood king, he seemed mildly impressed by the House of Elrond. Only mildly._

_  
"This peril belongs to all Middle Earth. They must decide now how to end it," Elrond said, walking towards Gandalf at the window. "The time of the Elves is over - my people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to once we've gone? The Dwarves? They hide away in their mountains seeking lost riches - they care nothing for the troubles of others." _

Gandalf paused, and turned to his friend. "It is in men that we must place our hope."

_  
Men. A weak race. He told Gandalf as much, that it was because of men that the Ring lives. Memories flooded his mind as Elrond thought back to that fateful day, the day he witnessed men's strength fall. He let his mind go back 3000 years to the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, when Islidur had cut the Ring. In a half-daze, he allowed himself to be led right into the heart of Mount Doom by Elrond, only to give into the temptation and keep the Ring. From that day on Elrond never truly forgave the race of Men, aiding the Northern men only because of their Numenorian heritage and ties to his now deceased brother Elros. Gandalf tried to reassure Elrond by pointing out that there was one man who could unite his broken race and bring strength and honour to Gondor once again. Elrond knew of whom he spoke of, but Aragorn had chosen exile. _

It was then that Glorfindel cleared his throat, calling attention to himself and the person with him. Both looked over to the noise and saw the elf-lord standing with a woman who eerily resembled the daughter of Elrond, Arwen Undomiel. Both had the same build, same skin and length of hair, though where Arwen's eyes were blue this lady's were more of a blue-green. There was a dark mark on the right side of her forehead, concealed mostly by her hair, but noticed by the eyes of an elf. Gandalf looked to Elrond, who gazed at the woman before him in utter amazement, then shook his head to regain his composure and the moment passed. Galadriel had sent word to him not long ago to expect the arrival of a strange woman, one she named as kin, and he had his sons and members of his house patrol the woods to keep an eye for her. He was encouraged to be prepared for her at a moment's notice, and he had done everything to ensure that he was. But nothing had prepared him for the actual encounter.

_  
"My lord, this is the Lady Delwyn. I came upon her in the halls on the other side of the manor. She has no conception of how she came to be here, so I have brought her to you for counsel," Glorfindel explained, introducing the lady with him._

_"I have been expecting the lady for some time. I thank you Glorfindel for bringing her to me," Elrond answered. The elf-lord gave a nod, released his arm from hers and took his leave. Gandalf looked at him questionably regarding this new visitor, but Elrond merely raised a hand in reassurance then turned to the woman. _

"Your arrival has been known to me, though the place of it was not. I thank the Valar that you arrived here. Welcome to Rivendell."

"How could you be expecting me? How did I get here? Why am I here?" the woman asked in rapid succession. It was evident to the both of them that that this whole event had left her a bit shaken up.

"_I am afraid what I know may not completely answer your questions," Elrond replied, indicating for her to sit. She shyly walked over to the chair he stood behind and seated herself as Gandalf came to join them. Once seated, she watched Elrond walk around the table she now sat at._

"_I was able to expect your arrival because I was informed of it by another who discovered your coming," he explained. "The Lady Galadriel, of the Golden Wood. I am sure her name may mean little to you now, but she bears gifts that allow her to see things not known to others. She is the reason you were guided to a safe place, though we had not anticipated you would land right in the middle of my home. But it was fortunate that you had; it was dark forces that brought you here, and without intervention you might have found yourself in less pleasant company. You are safe here."_

"_But, I still don't understand how I got here, and why?" Delwyn replied, confusion and desperation in her voice. _

"Some answers take time in revealing themselves to us, " Gandalf offered, trying to sound reassuring. "You just have to trust that they will come when you need them."

_Delwyn dropped her eyes. She knew they meant well, and she was grateful for their kindness, but it all comforted her little. Gandalf and Elrond both glanced at each other a moment before gazing back to her, compassion in their eyes._

"_Come, let us get you settled in a room," Elrond offered. "I am certain you are going to be here for quite some time."_

_Delwyn wandered the paths in the gardens as nightfall fell, wearing a borrowed dress from Arwen who she had met at dinner. A place was prepared for her near Elrond at his table in the dining hall, but she felt out of place and did not stay for the songs that came after the meal in the Hall of Fire. Everyone was kind and courteous to her, but many had questions she wasn't comfortable asking and she never did feel comfortable in such large crowds. Yet she hadn't been the only one; there were many who took to the gardens or other parts of the manor. Everywhere she walked she could hear soft voices singing strange words, but she never came across a soul. Yet it enticed her to stay in the gardens, which she did until the moon had traveled halfway through the night sky. Her eyelids began to feel heavy and she hoped she could keep awake long enough to find her room._

_She found an entrance to the manor from the part of the gardens she was in, and thankfully it was a part she had seen before. She could navigate herself without worry of getting lost or relying on someone to help her. Even in the moonlight, the beauty of the halls was still radiant, and it helped to keep her eyes open. She was moving at a rather steady pace until she came to a grand, intricately carved arch overlooking the most glorious sight she'd ever seen. A deep valley lay before her filled with large, proud trees. Waterfalls were in the distance, their mists catching in the moonlight giving them an ethereal glow. Entranced, Delwyn approached right to the edge. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen._

"_I see you have found the most grand view of the valley in which we live," a voice commented from behind. She turned and looked over her shoulder to see Elrond, dressed in dark burgundy robes. His raven dark hair hung long and unbound, nearly as long as hers. He stepped up beside her as she turned back to the sight before her._

"_I had never seen anything so beautiful," she replied in an almost dream-like voice. "I didn't know anything could be this beautiful."_

"_A lady I once knew said the same thing the first time she stood here," Elrond said, looking out. "She came to love this view. We stood many nights here together."_

_A long moment of silence passed between them. Delwyn dared a glance up at Elrond and found a soft, almost sorrowful look in his face. He didn't meet her gaze._

"_You look so much like your mother," he replied quietly. His statement shocked her; she had no conception of how he might know her mother, especially since she had not even known her own mother very long. But she had not the courage or heart to ask him what he meant. Another quiet moment passed._

"_You should get some rest, Delwyn," he advised, his voice more steady. "There will be much to discuss in the days to come, and you will need your strength."_

_She nodded. "I will. Thank you, for everything."_

_Elrond nodded, but said or did nothing more. Delwyn turned and headed back down the hall, the azure blue dress whispering against the floor as she went._


	3. Council

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Delwyn (Vanyalosse), Tatianna and anything not found in any of the works of the great Professor Tolkien or the script by Peter, Fran and Phillipa. All places, people, things and events found in his works are his and his only, and I make no profit by using them herein. I've used a blend of story and movie elements, you have been warned.

Chapter 3 - Council

_Delwyn awoke the next morning to the bright rays of the sun and birdsong wafting through the arches. She had a dreamless sleep, but comfortable. It was comforting knowing that no one would wake her in the middle of the night in a drunken rage. Smiling genuinely for the first time in too long, she sat up on the large sleigh bed, careful so as not to accidentally push any of the pillows to the floor, and gazed out over the waking world. The simple white gown that she wore, which had been laid out on her bed when she reached her room, swept off of the bed after her puddling at her feet. A soft breeze greeted her, and she inhaled the scent deeply. She was unaware of a presence behind._

"_Good morning, Delwyn," a deep yet distinctly feminine voice said. Delwyn turned to see Arwen standing in her doorway, smiling warmly and bearing a platter of various fruits, cheeses and breads. She walked into the room and set the platter on the table, waiting for Delwyn to join her. Delwyn suddenly felt very plain next to this lady as she approached the table. Here she was in a plain white gown, and there Arwen stood, draped in a belted overdress of luscious rose and an under dress of soft pink patterned with white vines and flowers. They both sat in unison when Delwyn reached the table, and she began picking tentatively at the food before her._

"_My father wanted to allow you to waken at your own time," Arwen explained. "If you were not awake in time for the morning meal, then you were to be left alone until you had awakened. He would have breakfasted with you, but he is preparing for council today."_

"_Council?" Delwyn asked, swallowing a piece of melon._

_Arwen nodded. "The One Ring of Sauron has emerged from hiding, and the people of Middle Earth are now going to decide its fate. It threatens us all."_

_Delwyn nodded, looking away a moment. "Do you think it might have something to do with why I was brought to this world?"_

"_My father does," Arwen answered. "Though he will not say it. He fears you may have to leave with this thing." Delwyn's head shot up, her eyes wide at the mention of possibly leaving this place she found herself in. Yet Arwen smiled, and reached over to grasp her hand reassuringly. "But that is only my own speculation. Only time will tell what is to be done."_

_Delwyn tried a smile, but felt no more reassured. They sat in silence as she finished her breakfast, and when she was done Arwen stood up._

"_The council will be meeting soon. Come with me to my chambers, and we shall find you something suitable to wear for the day."_

_She nodded and followed her out of the room. Servants moved quickly through the halls, obviously fulfilling preparations, but they gave quick nods of acknowledgement when they passed the daughter of Elrond and the guest of Elrond. Arwen's chambers were on the other side of the manor from Delwyn's, but it was a pleasant walk to Delwyn. Because they were of similar height and build, it was fairly easy for Delwyn to find something to borrow. She chose a single gown of a cranberry velvet with great sleeves that reached her ankles, which she put on after she returned to her own room to bathe. She opted to leave her hair unbound, mostly so as to hide the large bruise on the side of her forehead, but she also hadn't thought of anything she could do with it. People here wore their hair with ropes of intricate braids, and the best she was ever able to do with her long tresses was a ponytail or a plain braid. She wanted to avoid doing anything that would make her stand out more than she already did._

_A bell chimed while Delwyn was brushing out her hair. She didn't get a chance to even wonder what it meant, as Arwen came to her doorway once again._

"_They are gathering for the Council," she replied._

_Delwyn got up and followed her through the doorway and down the halls. All was now still in the halls, and the two ladies went unseen and unnoticed. Arwen had now wrapped a cloak of the same material of her overdress around her shoulders, which billowed out behind her and made it difficult for Delwyn to try and avoid stepping on it. Noticing this, Arwen slowed her pace so that Delwyn could catch up, allowing them to walk side by side the rest of the way. They entered parts of the house she had never seen before, and though she would have loved to take time and really gaze at her surroundings, she could tell Arwen was eager to reach their destination._

_  
Delwyn stood in the shadows in the library with Arwen, right next to the statue bearing the shards of Narsil. They had arrived just in time to see the last few people take their seats. She was amazed at the difference in each of the different peoples, how obvious the dwarves were from hobbits, and the difference in physical appearance between men and elves. Elrond sat at the base of a tree standing in the courtyard at the head of the circle, an advisor on either side of him. He watched solemnly as the last of his guests arrived from either side of his two advisors to take their places. A pedestal sat in the middle of the courtyard which each chair, with the exception of the three chairs Elrond and his advisors occupied, was seated around at equal distance from. Once everyone was settled, Elrond began, and both ladies remained still as he stood up to address the Council, being careful so as not to make their presence known._

"Arwen watched the Council?" Tatianna asked.

"Yes, she most certainly did," Vanyalosse replied. "She, like her father, sensed the connection that Delwyn had to her family, and also to the evil that was spreading in the world. Also, knowledge is a great tool, and it would have been beneficial for her to know as much as possible about the situation." She smiled. "And seeing Aragorn may have factored into it as well."

"Where they seen?"

"No," Vanyalosse answered, looking away. "At least not at first…."

_As Elrond spoke Delwyn looked over the Council, recognizing certain faces that had been introduced to her the night previous. Glorfindel, who had been the first to greet her in this wondrous place and whom she learned to be a great lord of his kind. Gandalf, the kindly wizard she had met with Elrond. Frodo Baggins, the young hobbit whose burden it had been to bring the One Ring to Imladris. Aragorn, the Ranger with a kingly heritage that she knew little of and had a relationship with her new friend that she envied so much. Gimli the dwarf, who had attended with his father Gloin and never seemed to tire of speaking of his father's deeds or his own. Boromir of Gondor who had come in the stead of his father to take part in the Council on behalf of Gondor, and Legolas, who had come as a messenger from his father the king of Mirkwood. These two Delwyn could not look away from for long ever since she had first seen them. Both were stout, honourable and stirred in her something she could not explain. She was afraid it of, almost ashamed of it, but did nothing to try and push whatever it was away. Perhaps a talk with Arwen, or even Elrond, later might help to clarify it for her. But for now she was content to watch these two who enticed her as both she and Arwen watched the Council unfold._

_They spoke for hours, none bringing any good news from the places in which they dwelt. All were weary, and none were close to an answer to the fate of the Ring. Delwyn shivered every time her thought went to it, remembering the moment when Gandalf stood and spoke the words that made the sky darken and all who heard them shrink back in despair and fear. Yet though she witnessed Gandalf speaking it was another, crueler voice that spoke them, and that voice (as well as the words) was strangely familiar to her. Much too familiar for her comfort, and she was nearly tempted to turn away from the Council but she feared making noise and thus alerting someone to where they stood. So she stayed where she was, praying that they would finish soon._

_The end finally came from out of an ensuing argument that broke out amongst those gathered. Frodo stood up and shouted out that he would take the Ring to be destroyed. The yelling died down as each member heard the small voice announce that he would do what no one else had offered to do; travel to Mordor to destroy the Ring. Delwyn did not miss the expression on Gandalf's face; he had clearly not wanted his little friend to have anything more to do with that accused object. Sadly Fate obviously had other plans. Elrond gazed hard at the little hobbit._

"_If I understand aright all that I have heard, I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great. Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it? Or, if they are wise, why should they expect to know it, until the hour has struck?" A pause, and Elrond continued. "But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right; and though all the mighty elf-friends of old, Hador, and Hurin, and Turin, and Beren himself were assembled together, your seat should be among them."_

"_But though the Wise could not have foreseen this, will they abandon this Halfling in his time of need?" Gandalf asked, standing to the Council. He looked down to Frodo. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is your burden to bear."_

_A soft murmur rippled out over the Council at Gandalf's declaration. Elrond gave him a look as if to question him, but Gandalf was sure and steadfast; he would go with Frodo._

_Sam burst out from the bushes behind Frodo's chair, where he had been sitting during the entire time, and came to stand beside his master._

"_Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"_

_Elrond looked exasperated, but managed a smile. "No indeed it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."_

_Sam looked down, slightly embarrassed by his outburst, but Elrond announced that nothing would be decided right away. Delwyn could not help a giggle at the sweet hobbit's antics and was caught by Elrond, who seemed shocked to see her there. She looked to Arwen only to discover she had already turned and gone down towards the corridors and she did not hesitate to follow. She guessed (and quite rightly) that Elrond had planned to keep her from everything until a time when he felt that she would be ready to hear it, but something about the reason why Arwen brought her here and her own feelings told her that there was no such time. She would never be ready to hear such evil, but she had to, and the sooner she did, the more likely the quest of the One Ring might succeed._


	4. Beginning the Journey

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter (most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
Part One, The Fellowship: Chapter 4 - Beginning the Journey  
  
"Why can't this be done another way?" Jacqueline pleaded. She was walking through the main chamber with Elrond.  
  
"Because this is the way it should be," he answered. "You have a great deal of knowledge, more than either Gandalf or Galadriel. It will prove helpful to the Fellowship if you accompanied them and used your knowledge."  
  
"But I'm not good with any type of weapon, especially those of this time. How helpful can I be if I can't even defend myself? Asking them to protect both me and Frodo is asking too much." She paused in her thoughts. "Can't I just travel to Lothlorien on my own, or even wait until your sons return so I may have them as escorts?"  
  
Elrond shook his head. "There is no telling when my sons will return, and we cannot afford to wait I am afraid. But I am confident that you will learn, child; there is much doubt in you, and you must learn to let go of it for all of our sakes. Trust yourself to know the skill of war when you must fight, to find strength when you seem to reach an end, and to find hope when everyone else loses hope. Besides-" and they stopped in front of the mirror. "The link between our worlds has been broken."  
  
The mirror was cold to the touch, black and dead. She was filled with mixed emotions; one part was grateful to be cut off from her father and the other was heartbroken from being cut off from everything familiar.  
  
"Does that mean I can't go back to my world, at all?" she asked.  
  
"Only if your deeds are great beyond common measure; our powers decrease as our time runs to an end. The Elven Ringbearers will only grant such a request if you fulfill a heroic task." Elrond answered.  
  
"Like helping to destroy the Ring?" she questioned, though it was more of an affirmation. He nodded.  
  
"It is obvious that without your aid, the evil of the Ring is not completely depleted, otherwise you would not be here. A power brought you to us, because the future needs to be rid of something, and I have every reason to suspect the Ring. You are the only one who knows the story."  
  
"I still don't believe I can do this," she began, still reluctant and turning to face Elrond. "But I shall take on the oath the Fellowship swore. I will help to see the Ring destroyed as long as I am able to do so." Elrond smiled, gratefully.  
  
"Then so it shall be."  
  
In Jacqueline's room...  
  
Arwen was helping Jacqueline pack. She had a better idea of what Jacqueline would need to take then Jacqueline herself, so Elrond requested her assistance. Most of what Jacqueline was given came from Arwen, including a traveling outfit once worn by Arwen's mother.  
  
"Arwen, I can't take this. Your mother's memory doesn't belong on the kind of journey I'm about to face. I would be too afraid of ruining it or something," Jacqueline insisted, trying to refuse the outfit. It was a rich brown overcoat reaching down to the ground, and had wide sleeves. What she wore underneath were ivory leggings and a long sleeve ivory shirt, which extended down to her mid thighs. A burgundy tunic sat on top of her ivory shirt and she wore a pair of burgundy boots as well. Her vambraces were of brownish burgundy leather.  
  
"My mother was a great woman," Arwen replied, not allowing her to reject it. "Such an heirloom deserves to be passed on to another great woman."  
  
Jacqueline smiled. "You are a great woman yourself."  
  
"Your task will prove to be much greater than anything I ever accomplish in my time." Arwen said modestly. "And though I have only known you for such a short time, it feels like we've known each other through many ages. May the strength of the Elves be with you, friend."  
  
They hugged, like old friends do, and breaking the hug Jacqueline picked up her bag. It was small and light, only containing a few outfits should she need them. She was given a sword, which hung on her left hip, and a small knife, which she hid in one of her boots. Arwen stopped her before she left the room.  
  
"My father asked me to give you this-," she said, giving Jacqueline a sheathed knife, longer than the one in her boot. The sheath was like leather. "He used to carry it with him in his battle days and it saved him from harm. He wanted you to have it in hopes that it will prove as useful to you as it had to him."  
  
Jacqueline took it with reverence, and bidding her friend one last farewell she left the room.  
  
Back outside, near Rivendell's entrance...  
  
The Fellowship was making some last-minute preparations. Elrond told them of Jacqueline and that she would go with them. None of them protested, and even if any of them did it wouldn't have changed Elrond's decision. Aragorn was adjusting the packs on his horse as Legolas walked soundlessly down the stairs, passing the four hobbits sitting on the stairs. Boromir was adjusting his shield on his back and Gandalf was speaking to Elrond. Jacqueline climbed down the stairs, a figure in brown unsure of the reaction she would get. She wore the burgundy and ivory she tried to refuse from Arwen earlier; it felt necessary knowing Arwen held her in such high regard. Frodo was the first to see her come down.  
  
"You're the one Lord Elrond is sending with us, aren't you?" he asked, giving her a warm smile as he stood up to greet her. Merry, Pippin and Sam took notice as well.  
  
"I am," she answered, smiling and relaxing at his friendliness. "I hope I'm not offending anyone, being here."  
  
"'Course you're not," Merry said.  
  
"Having a woman on a journey never hurt anyone" Sam chimed in.  
  
"Yeah, we're a very open minded people, you know. 'Course it wouldn't have changed Elrond's mind either way," Pippin said, matter of factly.  
  
"Pippin!" Merry shot. Jacqueline chuckled.  
  
"It's alright Merry. Amusing as his honesty is, he does speak the truth." She said, sighing heavily as Gimli arrived. She had no chance to explain what she meant to the curious hobbits, because Gimli's arrival meant that it was time to leave. She had noticed out of the corner of her eye stares of disproval from both Gimli and Boromir, and knew it would be a long journey.  
  
"Strength be with you all friends," Elrond said, bidding them a formal goodbye. "May your courage of heart never fail you and return you safely back to us." And with that said, the Fellowship and Jacqueline left to begin the quest.  
  
Out in the Wilderness...  
  
They traveled long and hard, stopping momentarily to rest. Every now and then one of the hobbits would look back, with concern on their face, past Aragorn to her making sure she was okay. She would smile back, reassuring them that she was keeping up just fine. They all displayed their uniqueness of nature during their traveling, and Jacqueline could see it despite the fact that she was behind them all.  
  
Gandalf led them on, clearly a born leader. But it was the obvious choice; Gandalf was used to such adventures and had the knowledge and mind to handle any situation. But age, it seems, had a habit of catching Gandalf, and Jacqueline noticed that he would sometimes rely on his ancient staff more than he usually did. Legolas followed him, his bright blue eyes always scouting for a threat. The uneven ground that was a bit of a challenge for most of them was like an even path to him. His light steps spoke clearly of many adventures in the forests and the way he carried himself told of many years of training and growing up in a royal court. What amazed her about him the most was that, for one so old, time did not touch Legolas; he looked not much older than she yet there was so much more wisdom in his features.  
  
Gimli was behind Legolas, carrying his ax on his right shoulder. His helmet sat smartly on his brow, and his hair had been tamed into braids to make fighting less of a challenge. His persona spoke of great pride and independence, like he could have taken the Ring straight to Mordor himself. But he knew that his skills were invaluable to the Fellowship, and so he (reluctantly) became a team player. The four hobbits came next, safely between the Fellowship. Frodo, whose soul was heavy with his burden, Merry who was deep in thought, Pippin who just seemed to be content to be on the journey and Sam who was bound to prove that he could be helpful by leading Aragorn's horse. Boromir followed, trying to appear neutral and acting like this kind of journey was nothing out of the ordinary. He appeared stern, as if any sort of mistake was unacceptable, but Jacqueline knew that he was afraid of failing himself. She felt sympathy for him despite the fact that he harboured some ill feelings towards her; he came from a place where the burdens were usually put on him, and she knew it wasn't easy. Aragorn didn't seem to carry any of that. His face was emotionless; the only proof of any cares (besides being in the Fellowship) was the Evenstar he wore around his neck. Sometimes during the journey she wished she could be like Aragorn and have that unwavering strength to go forward despite the burden, but the years of living a sheltered and abused life hadn't lent itself to teaching her how to do so.  
  
After much traveling they paused on a rocky hill. Jacqueline wandered over to where Aragorn sat, smoking his pipe, and took a seat next to him. He smiled at her, warmly, and she returned the gesture. They watched as Boromir taught Merry and Pippin the ways of the sword.  
  
"Move your feet," Aragorn commented, pipe between his teeth.  
  
"That's good, Pippin." Merry complimented. Pippin smiled.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Boromir went at it again, picking up the pace to give Pippin a more realistic scenario. She could hear Gimli in the backround, suggesting they go through Moria; Gandalf was against it. Then Boromir accidentally cut Pippin and all hobbit-hell breaks loose. Jacqueline and Aragorn laughed as Merry and Pippin overtook Boromir, and as Aragorn went to go and try to aid the fallen man, got caught in the struggle as well. She got so caught up in the moment that she forgot about the approaching danger.  
  
Sam spotted it first, while Gimli dismissed it as nothing. Boromir wasn't so sure of Gimli's theory.  
  
"It's moving fast," he said, getting up. "Against the wind."  
  
Legolas studied it for a moment. "Crebain from Dunland!"  
  
"Hide!" Aragorn cried, grabbing his things. They scattered on the hillside.  
  
"Merry! Frodo!" Boromir yelled, collecting the hobbits under a rock. Jacqueline miscalculated a jump and tripped in her rush, and was caught by Legolas. He pulled her under some of the undergrowth and kept her low to the ground like he was. The Crebain flew overhead, making a noise similar to a tornado. The Fellowship popped up from hiding when they disappeared.  
  
"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf concluded. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras."  
  
"No," Jacqueline said firmly, surprising herself as well as her companions. "Caradhras is a fruitless route and would deprive us of valuable time."  
  
Gandalf nodded. "Then we have two other routes to choose from: Moria or the Gap of Rohan. Let the Ringbearer decide which will be our road." He turned to the hobbit. "Frodo?"  
  
He hesitated, looking completely unsure of himself, then stood up as tall as he could. "We will go through the mines." 


	5. Entering Moria

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter (most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
Part One, The Fellowship: Chapter 5 - Entering Moria  
  
They traveled down to the steep, vertical walls of Moria. Their sight caught the awe of all of them, even Gimli. They trekked across muddy riverbanks and bridges made of mangled, fallen dead trees. Jacqueline slipped a couple times; she had no real traction on her boots and she still wasn't entirely used to the change in attire either. Legolas, who had been walking behind her, caught her arm both times to stop her from falling. She smiled, a combination of thanks and apology for slowing them down. He smiled warmly at her, assuring her that she was no trouble, and kept hold of her arm discreetly until she was sure of her footing. They came to an open part of the beach where a few large boulders and a dying tree sat. Gandalf walked up to the wall and started rubbing away dirt.  
  
"Now, let's see," he murmured, outlining the doors. "Ithilien - it mirrors only starlight and moonlight." They all watched as the moon slid out from behind dark clouds. The door slowly lit up, and they all looked on in awe as Gandalf read the elvish script above.  
  
"It reads 'The doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter.'"  
  
"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked innocently. Gandalf laughed easily.  
  
"Oh it's quite simple. If you are a friend you speak the password and the doors will open." He then began trying different elvish phrases to open the door. Jacqueline moved to go join Gandalf, but was stopped by Boromir. He gave her a warning look, and she coward back. Feeling like she was out on a limb she searched out Aragorn or one of the hobbits or even Legolas, someone who did not harbour any anger towards her. The only ones who were near her were Pippin and Boromir; Merry was a little ways away from Pippin, Aragorn and Sam were to her far right and Legolas and Gimli sat under the dying tree not facing each other. Jacqueline turned her attention to Aragorn as all of the packs and equipment were taken off the horse and the horse was free to go. She wished she could have been released of her own burden as easily as the horse was. Aragorn looked over at her and seeing the hurt on her face, walked over to her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Merry picked up a rock and hurled it as far into the water as his hobbit stature would allow. Pippin was about to do the same, but Aragorn stopped his hand in mid-air.  
  
"Do not disturb the water," he warned quietly, gazing out at the dark waters. Jacqueline followed his gaze, and Boromir walked up beside him. The creature knew they were there, she was sure of it. She had to find some way of getting the Fellowship into Moria without being stalled by the Watcher; it would save their energy if it were avoided. As if reading her mind, Frodo came up beside her.  
  
"Do you know how much longer we will be down here?" he asked.  
  
"Not much longer," Jacqueline answered. "We just have to answer that riddle."  
  
"That's a riddle above the door?" he asked. She nodded, and before she could say anything more about it Frodo walked over to Gandalf eager to help.  
  
"A riddle," he said. He turned to Gandalf, who had sat down frustrated. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the elvish word for friend?"  
  
Gandalf paused a moment. "Mellon," he answered. Suddenly a dull rumbling noise broke through the night and the doors opened to them. Jacqueline smiled; there was a glint of happy pride in his eyes, and for a moment he felt better knowing that he contributed (even if it was just slightly) to the quest. They entered the passageway as Gimli bragged about dwarf hospitality and how could anyone call his cousin's home a mine.  
  
"This is no mine," Boromir said looking around. "It's a tomb!"  
  
The repulsive odor swept over them like a powerful wave, as they gazed out at the corpses scattered on the floor. Gimli ran to one with arrows shot through the head and shoulders.  
  
"Oh! No!" he gasped, looking on in sorrow. "Noooo!!!"  
  
Legolas strode noiselessly to another body pinned to the wall by an arrow through the eye. He pulled it out and examined it. "Goblins!" he exclaimed throwing it aside and pulling out his bow and an arrow of his own. Aragorn and Boromir pulled out their swords.  
  
"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," Boromir professed. He ushered the hobbits outward. "Now get out, get out!"  
  
Jacqueline tried to get to Gandalf with intentions to tell him that Moria was their route, but Aragorn ushered her back.  
  
"We must go, Jacqueline," he said. "Moria is too dangerous."  
  
"But-" Jacqueline began. She didn't get to finish; the Watcher grabbed Frodo.  
  
"Frodo!" the other hobbits cried. The rest of them rushed to Frodo's aid with weapons drawn.  
  
"Strider!" Sam cried in desperation. He hacked off one of the flailing tentacles as they lethally struck the beach. "Get off him!"  
  
Jacqueline was knee-deep in the water with Aragorn and Boromir trying to get to Frodo. He looked like a rag doll the way he was being swung around. Jacqueline swung her sword with as much strength as she possessed through any tentacle that came near her. Swinging the sword wasn't the hard part; getting the sword through the creature's flesh was. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that Boromir was impressed by how she was handling herself in this situation. Not now, she thought to herself. Worry about their reactions later. You've got to help save Frodo. With that goal in her mind, she approached the creature fearlessly defending herself against it. She held up her sword and drove it into the creature's side just as one of Legolas' arrows struck it. It screamed in pain and lashed out, wrapping a tentacle around her waist and pulled her under. She had gotten some of the murky water in her mouth and was nearly choking. Just as Jacqueline began to lose consciousness, the creature lifted her out of the water, thinking her to be dead. She gasped for air immediately and spit out the water, coming back to her senses. She saw Boromir hack another tentacle off. Aragorn spotted her in the creature's grasp.  
  
"Hold on!" he shouted, trying to make his way to her.  
  
"No! Save Frodo!" she cried exasperated.  
  
"But-" he cried, slicing a tentacle away.  
  
"Go!" she yelled back, trying to squirm out of the creature's grasp. "Don't worry about me. You have to-"  
  
Her voice cut off as the Watcher, realizing she was still alive, violently jerked her back under the water. Luckily, she kept her mouth shut this time and relaxed, knowing that if she limped the creature would think she was dead again. Aragorn looked on helplessly, then turned to Boromir who was trying to get to Frodo. Legolas had seen her go back under, but could not get a clear shot to free her. His arrows did nothing to help bring her back to the surface, and he suddenly felt useless. Then the Watcher finally dropped Frodo who landed in Boromir's arms, and they scrambled out of the water dodging tentacles as they went.  
  
Jacqueline, meanwhile, saved her strength until she could hit the creature. As soon as it lifted her out of the water again she sliced at it, cutting herself free. She fell into the water, the lifeless flesh falling from her body as she got up and staggered out of the water.  
  
"Legolas! Aim for his eye!" she heard Boromir yell. He ushered the hobbits forward. "Come on!" he shouted urgently as Legolas took aim, hitting his mark. Jacqueline saw the shot from where she stumbled to on the beach. She had no strength left; she was so out of breath that she could think of nothing but rest. The Fellowship was running into the mines at Gandalf's command. Legolas looked back as he jumped and saw her on the beach. He saw a sense of defeat on her face and begged her with his eyes to not give up. She got up, finding some hidden strength in her after seeing Legolas' eyes and ran to the door. The Watcher moved to the door as well, pursuing its prey. A tentacle got in her way, and she hacked at it, cutting it off and out of her way. They all ran forward into the mine as the Watcher pulled off the doors and the front passage collapsed on top of it barricading them in. Gandalf lighted the piece of quartz he picked up earlier as Jacqueline collapsed not caring what she sat on. She coughed for air as the agitated Fellowship looked out at the staircase cluttered with corpses.  
  
"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria." Gandalf said. "Be on your guard. There are older and more fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world."  
  
Legolas walked over to Jacqueline. He kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"  
  
She nodded, putting her hand on his forearm. "Yeah I'm fine." She looked past him at the group ascending the stairs. "C'mon, let's go." She got up and began ascending, and Legolas marveled at her strength of body and spirit.  
  
"Quietly now," Gandalf warned. "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed." 


	6. The Seeds of Friendship

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 6 - The Seeds of Friendship  
  
They travelled through cavern after cavern, walking along twisted paths and up near-vertical staircases. When they rested, nearly everyone took turns keeping watch except for Jacqueline; Gandalf and Aragorn would not allow it saying that she needed rest more than anything. She questioned Gandalf while he took watch on the second night.  
  
"I don't understand why I'm not considered able enough to stand watch."  
  
"This place, I can tell, is not something you're used to. You tire out quicker than Boromir and Aragorn and I worry about you as much as I worry about Frodo." Gandalf explained. "Besides, Elrond expressed to me of your insecurities, and I felt it wise to not obligate you to some of the tasks this journey entails."  
  
"Gandalf, I know you mean well, and perhaps I am not able to keep up due to a lack of experience. But when we were fighting outside of Moria it awoke something in me that I didn't believe I possessed." Jacqueline said, uncertainy in her voice.  
  
"Really?" Gandalf's brow crinkled in confusion.  
  
She nodded. "Yes. I had lost all sense of fear, and I was driven by a determination that I would not be caught again. It was almost like I had the strength and courage of someone else." Silence between them as Gandalf pondered her words. "What do you suppose it means Gandalf?"  
  
"I don't know," he answered regretfully. "You are a riddle that I have not been able to answer entirely ever since we met. It's obvious that you are here to help properly destroy the Ring; the question now is, why can't it be done without you?"  
  
The question caught Jacqueline a bit off-guard, but she quickly recovered and sighed. "I had hoped that this journey would be much easier since I knew what would become of it. But Fate, it seems, makes nothing easy for me."  
  
"Such times are not easy for anyone whether they be an old whithering wizard or a woman who has been thrown into a place where she can do and know so much, yet know so little. But fate as you call it brings about just as much good. Things will always look up child, but you must have the strength to see through the misfortunes to get there." Gandalf replied, reassuringly. A stirring in the camp caught their attention, and they looked on as the company awoke. Gandalf passed her a small flask with an odorless liquid. "Drink this," he said. "It will help to keep your strength up."  
  
She took it and drank. The liquid had no taste, but she could already feel the energy building up in her muscles. She passed the flask back to Gandalf as the rest of them had a quick breakfast. He smiled, hid the flask in his robes and got up.  
  
"We should move," he said. "The journey ahead is still long."  
  
On the fourth day in Moria......  
  
They climed up to a platform and stopped. Three passages stood in front of them, and only one would lead them out. Gandalf looked at all three, confusion on his face.  
  
"I have no memory of this place."  
  
The four hobbits turned and looked at Jacqueline, hopefully. Part of her wanted to reveal the right path and get out of Moria, but another part told her that this part of the story(like so many other parts of the story) had to happen. She was beginning to realize that things had to happen, if not for her benefit for the benefit of others in the Fellowship or Middle Earth. She shook her head, and they rested while Gandalf pondered.  
  
She sat between Gandalf and Legolas. She overheard the hobbits converse about whether they were lost and their imminent hunger. She looked over at Frodo, and followed his gaze down to the caverns. Jacqueline too, saw Gollum leaping from rock to rock skillfully. Fear built up in the hobbit as he ran to Gandalf, while her gaze didn't move. She watched as the creature hopped from the depths of the caverns to quite close where the company sat. She saw as Gollum gazed at Frodo as Gandalf explained that Gollum loved and hated the Ring as well of himself; he would never be rid of his need for the Ring. A mix of bravado and underlying fear laced Frodo's voice as he said what a pity it was that Bilbo didn't kill the creature.  
  
"Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?" Gandalf asked, almost challengingly. Frodo snuck a quick look at Jacqueline and she nodded, her face telling him that Gandalf was right. The wizard continued. "Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."  
  
Frodo sat down beside Gandalf despairingly, and Jacqueline got up to sit beside him.  
  
"I wish the ring had never come to me," Frodo said. "I wish none of this had happened."  
  
Jacqueline sat beside the poor hobbit, taking his hand as an offering of comfort as Gandalf spoke.  
  
"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world Frodo besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the ring, in which case you were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought." Gandalf smiled, then turned his gaze to the middle passage. "Ah! It's that way."  
  
Merry grabbed his things and got up excitedly. "He's remembered!" Jacqueline laughed to herself quietly, and like the rest of the Fellowship was relieved to be moving again.  
  
"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here." Gandalf said, returning his hat to his head and leading away. "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."  
  
They walked down the passage with caution, trusting Gandalf's judgement. After some distance, the passage opened up into a great hall.  
  
"Let me risk a little more light," Gandalf muttered, dusting off the quartz some more. Its light grew brighter to reveal a large room with arched ceilings supported by incredibly tall pillars. They all looked on in awe, even Gimli who had grown up in such places.  
  
"Behold the great realm of the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." Gandalf said.  
  
"That's an eye opener and no mistake," Sam commented, speaking their thoughts.  
  
They continued on walking through the hall, their hearts lighter now that they were nearing the end of Moria. Suddenly Gimli paused, seeing a stream of sunlight in a chamber they passed. He gasped, and ran into the chamber. Jacqueline followed closely behind.  
  
"Gimli!" Gandalf called after them.  
  
Gimli stopped in front of a large stone tomb, and fell to his knees sobbing. Although Jacqueline could not read what was on the tomb, she knew it to be Balin's. Gandalf, as well as the rest of the Fellowship, came slowly into the chamber. Jacqueline wrapped her coat tightly around her, memories of her mother's funeral flooding her mind. She pushed them away as Gandalf translated the runes.  
  
"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'. He is dead then. It's as I feared."  
  
Gimli wailed in despair, and Jacqueline placed a hand on his shoulder as reassurance. Now was a time for compassion, regardless of how much Gimli disproved of her. Both Boromir and Legolas marvelled at her actions, surprised that she would feel anything for a dwarf, especially one who didn't like her. Gimli took notice of her hand and turned slightly.  
  
"Why do you pretend to care about my loss?" he asked quietly. There was a thread of anger in his voice.  
  
"Because I once lost someone close to me as well, and I know how much it hurts." Jacqueline answered softly. She could see Boromir's expression soften for a moment, then it went neutral when he realized that he was being watched. Legolas, who also showed compassion in his own face, apparently heard something and moved to Aragorn as Gandalf picked up a book.  
  
"We must move on, we cannot linger!" Legolas said. It was meant to be quiet, but it reached Jacqueline's ears.  
  
"They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep." Gandalf read. Gimli looked back at the tomb upon hearing what Gandalf was saying. He placed a hand on top of hers as Gandalf flipped the page and continued.  
  
"We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out....They are coming."  
  
A crash caught them all off-guard, and everyone looked over at Pippin just in time to see a half-decayed body fall down the edge of the well it sat on. He winced at every crash, a guilty look on his face. Silence soon followed and they began to relax. Except Jacqueline, who knew what was coming next. Her hand grasped the hilt of her sword as Gandalf slammed the book shut.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" he exclaimed angrily. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"  
  
Drums echoed from below. 


	7. Loss of a Kindred Soul

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 7 - Loss of a Kindred Soul  
  
Sam's eye caught something, and that something was......  
  
"Frodo!" he exclaimed, his face in panic. Frodo grabbed his sword and unsheathed it, revealing a blue glow. He looked back at his friend and matched his panic.  
  
"Orcs!" Legolas exclaimed seeing the blue glow. Jacqueline unsheathed both her sword and Elrond's dagger as Boromir ran to the door. He looked out it and was greeted by a few arrows narrowly missing his face.  
  
"Get back!" Aragorn shouted to the hobbits. "Stay close to Gandalf!"  
  
He dropped the torch and ran to Boromir to help close the doors. Jacqueline's fear slipped away and the same unknown bravery she never knew existed had returned.  
  
"They have a cave troll," Boromir said to Aragorn, like it was an inconvienence.  
  
Legolas tossed the two men large axes to barricade the door and all three of them moved back to the open room. Boromir stood off to Jacqueline's left, shield and sword ready. Legolas was to her right, closer than Boromir. In a flash his bow was ready in his hand and an arrow was notched to it aimed at the door. Aragorn also had his bow and arrow ready, sharing Legolas' target. Gandalf and the hobbits stood behind Aragorn ready for battle. Gimli jumped onto his cousin's resting place and brandished his axe, letting out a type of battle cry.  
  
"Let them come!" he exclaimed, bravery and bravado in his voice. "There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"  
  
They could see the orcs through holes in the doors, hacking away at the barricade. Legolas' and Aragorn's arrows met them with deadly accuracy, but soon orcs outnumbered arrows and they broke through the doors. The battle began, and the orcs were greeted by Boromir's, Jacqueline's and Aragorn's swords; those who managed to get past those three were greeted by Legolas' knives or arrows, Gimli's axe, Gandalf's sword, Sam's skillet, and Merry's, Pippin's and Frodo's swords. A mere few minutes later the cave troll thundered into the chamber, knocking dow the walls that were in his way coming in. Jacqueline slashed an orc's neck, and the swinging of her sword caught the leg of the rampaging troll. Before he could look down at her Legolas shot him, and he growled at the elf. The troll then swung his mace at Sam, who ran under the troll's legs, then aimed at Gimli; the troll missed twice, first hitting the tomb then an orc.  
  
Legolas had jumped onto a ledge, giving himself more of an advantage over most of the orcs. Ocassionally one made it up on the ledge, but mostly he was hitting orcs below. He was covering Jacqueline more than anyone; the hobbits were being shielded mostly by Gandalf, Boromir, Aragorn or eachother, and the three humans had fought in situations like this before so they were quite skilled. Gimli seemed fine on his own, which left Jacqueline. She was a surprisingly skilled fighter for one who came from another time, but she hadn't quite learned how to watch her back. Nor was it easy to learn, especially when she was in a position by the door. So Legolas took it upon himself to protect her, a sort of repentance for not being able to help her outside of Moria. He was interrupted by the troll, who whipped his chain at the elf.  
  
Jacqueline took notice of the troll aiming at Legolas. The orcs spent less time attacking her and more avoiding her. She had no idea why. A metal-on- metal noise brought her back, and she saw Legolas stamp the chain down which had wrapped around a pillar and itself. Some orcs came into her range, and she clobbered them while Legolas ran the chain, shot the troll and jumped off. The troll swung around growling, and Jacqueline managed to clip its arm. They continued fighting orcs while the troll spied another target. She got closer and closer to where Aragorn was fighting but didn't realize it. She was still puzzling over why the orcs feared her. Her only warning to how close she was to Aragorn was Frodo's screaming for him, then the troll's angry growl. She looked up and was hit by Aragorn who had been punched by the troll. She somewhat softened his landing, but couldn't do much for him since his body struck her awkwardly on her shoulder. She landed on her chest with Aragorn on his back beside her, unconscious. Her sword and dagger had flown from her hands when she landed, but not far merely inches. Which was fortunate, because some of the remaining orcs charged her. So she picked up her weapons and stood her ground, and watched the orcs back up and search out other targets.  
  
Screaming grabbed her attention. The troll was swinging Merry around, while Pippin held on to the creature's head. She ran to the troll in hopes of catching the hobbit when he fell. Jacqueline didn't get over to him quick enough and he landed on the ground with a thud; thankfully he didn't fall far.  
  
"Are you okay Merry?" Jacqueline asked, exasperated.  
  
Merry sat up rubbing his back. "I hope so. Nothing feels broken." He looked up, and the painful look was replaced with a frightened one. Jacqueline spun around and killed the orc that had come up behind them. Merry smiled his thanks, and she smiled back. They looked over at the troll which was the point of battle as the number of orcs was decreasing fast. Gandalf and Gimli alternated striking the troll until Pippin stabbed its head, and Legolas shot the deathblow into its mouth. The troll moaned, stumbled, and then fell. Pippin flew off the falling troll and was knocked out, and Merry ran to his side. Silence settled in the room; the orcs were either dead or had run off. Aragorn had finally come to and looked over at Frodo.  
  
"Oh no!" he said in despair, loud enough for only his companions to hear. They all ran over to Aragorn and Frodo(including Pippin who had come to), and saw Aragorn roll Frodo's limp body over. He groaned and sat up.  
  
"He's alive!" Sam said, breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
"I'm all right," he assured them, trying to catch his breath. "I'm not hurt."  
  
Aragorn was puzzled. "You should be dead! That spear would have skeward a wild boar."  
  
Gandalf, who had been the only one who had taken his time joining the group, looked at Jacqueline with a knowing look before looking at the Fellowship.  
  
"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye," he said, the knowing look still on his face and a sort of twinkle in his eye.  
  
Frodo opened the first couple of buttons of his shirt to reveal a metal one he wore underneath.  
  
"Mithril!" Gimli gasped, then regained his composure. "You are full of surprises Master Baggins."  
  
The noises of orcs could be heard some ways off, and everyone looked at Gandalf.  
  
"To the bridge of Khazad-dum!" he exclaimed, and they all ran through Dwarrowdelf with all the speed they could maintain. Orcs crawled out of every large crevice with speed themselves, and soon they had surrounded the Fellowship. Both sides had weapons drawn, but a growing red light sent the orcs running. The Fellowship saw it too.  
  
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked quietly and gravely, a bit of fear in his voice.  
  
Gandalf closed his eyes as he explained. "A Balrog - a demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!"  
  
They were off like a flash without hesitation. They ran through a passageway, then down a staircase. Jacqueline and Boromir ran side by side down the stairs, but in the rush Jacqueline got a little ahead of him and the shock startled her and she flew forward a bit. She headed for the chasm and was grabbed by Boromir; unfortunately he also started falling forward with her. Legolas grabbed Boromir with his left hand, then threw his right arm around when he realised Boromir had Jacqueline.  
  
Jacqueline's gaze was directed down int the fissure, and fear re-entered her body; whatever had kept fear away was gone now. She felt Boromir grab her left arm to pull her back, but was close to falling himself. Then she felt a strong arm clasp around her waist and pull both her and Boromir back; the intricate leaf design on the vambrace told her it was Legolas. They all fell backwards on top of eachother, but it was better than falling forward. They all scrambled and ran down the rest of the stairs with the hobbits not far behind. Aragorn followed, and Gandalf not far behind him.  
  
"Gandalf," Aragorn said, urging the wizard to move faster.  
  
"Lead them on Aragorn. The bridge is near," Gandalf instructed, descending down the stairs. He pushed Aragorn, trying to get him moving again. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."  
  
They came to a gap on the stairs, and Legolas leaped across it without hesitation. He turned to look back up.  
  
"Gandalf," he said, motioning for the wizard to follow.  
  
"No," Gandalf answered. He pulled Jacqueline down to where he stood. "The lady goes next."  
  
Jacqueline took a deep breath and looked down at Legolas. Don't let me fall, she whispered before taking the leap. She landed safely on the other side into Legolas' waiting arms. "I would never allow such a thing," he whispered into her ear as soon as she landed. They smiled at eachother briefly before Legolas turned to catch Gandalf as he jumped.  
  
Arrows flew by their heads, and Legolas took up his own bow and shot back while Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin. He jumped the gap with a hobbit under each arm, and when they had been released they stood near Jacqueline. Aragorn picked up Sam and tossed him to Boromir's waiting arms, and was about to toss Gimli when Gimli stopped him.  
  
"Nobody tosses a dwarf," he stated matter-of-factly, and jumped across himself. He landed right on the edge of the other side and began to lean backwards. Legolas grabbed his beard.  
  
"Not the beard!" he yelled in protest. Legolas pulled him forward and let him go, preparing with Boromir to catch Frodo and Aragorn.  
  
Suddenly the steps Aragorn and Frodo were stepping on began to crumble and they climbed upward desperately. A giant boulder from way above then came crashing down and slammed into the staircase, creating a stone island ready to sink into the chasm.  
  
"Stay there," he said calmly to the hobbit. "Hold on." The rest of them looked on in despair, unable to do anything. The island shook.  
  
"Hang on!" Aragorn yelled. He waited until the stone they stood on leaned towards the Fellowship. "Lean forward!"  
  
Both Aragorn and Frodo leaned forward, their weight pushing the island. It began closing the gap.  
  
"Come on!" Boromir urged impulsively. They waited until the gap was moments from allowing a collision and jumped. Boromir and Legolas caught them, and they all ran down the stairs as the stone island fell.  
  
They reached the bottom. "Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf yelled. Each one of them ran across the bridge, and Gandalf stopped midway as he brought up the rear. The Balrog who had been chasing them stepped in front of the bridge and growled.  
  
"You cannot pass!" Gandalf yelled. The rest of the Fellowship, who stood at the bottom of another staircase, looked on.  
  
"Gandalf!" Frodo cried, trying to run to the wizard. He was stopped.  
  
Gandalf illuminated his staff in defense. "I am the servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udun!"  
  
The Balrog took its flaming sword and struck at Gandalf. The impact of the sword hitting the shield of light shattered the sword. It also caused Gandalf to stumble a bit, but he held his ground.  
  
"Go back to the shadow!" Gandalf bellowed, raising his staff. "YOU....SHALL NOT....PASS!"  
  
He slammed the staff against the bridge, and the bridge crumbled as the Balrog stepped onto it. Thinking it defeated, Gandalf walked away. It was a dangerous move, because he didn't see the Balrog's whip come lashing back up. It wrapped around Gandalf's leg and pulled him over the edge. He hung there weakly trying to climb back up. Frodo tried to run to him again.  
  
"No, Frodo!" Boromir exclaimed, holding the hobbit back.  
  
"Gandaaaaalf!" the hobbit cried, tears already starting to form.  
  
Jacqueline, who was being held back by Aragorn, broke free of his grasp and ran to Gandalf. She dropped to her knees in front of him and grabbed his left arm. She was tired, but she came to think of Gandalf as a grandfather and trusted friend, and she became too scared to go on without his aid.  
  
"Jacqueline you musn't," he pleaded.  
  
"I can't let you fall Gandalf," she answered, clearly struggling. He looked up at her.  
  
"Would it have happened if you weren't here?"  
  
She looked at him. "Gandalf, you have to climb-"  
  
"Would it?!" he asked firmly. Jacqueline's fear was joined by sadness, and she nodded unable to speak or lie. Despair blanketed his face.  
  
"Then let me go Jacqueline," he said, accepting his fate.  
  
Jacqueline shook her head. "No, Gandalf, I-"  
  
"Go! Fly, all of you!" he yelled. He smacked Jacqueline hard enough to let go of him, and he fell with the Balrog some ways down. Jacqueline watched him fall, tears running down her face and falling after Gandalf. The Fellowship heard and saw the whole thing.  
  
"Nooooooooooooooooooo!!" Frodo cried out again, fighting Boromir. He picked up Frodo and ushered out Sam, while Gimli ran out and Legolas ushered out Merry and Pippin. Boromir looked at Aragorn, who was staring at the scene in disbelief.  
  
"Aragorn!" he yelled, exiting.  
  
Aragorn looked at Boromir then back at Jacqueline. He called her, eager to get out. She looked up, acknowledging his voice. Orcs on the other side took aim, but not at her; they didn't dare. She got up and ran back to Aragorn as arrows flew. When she got to Aragorn he put an arm around her, shielding her as they ran out. 


	8. Lothlorien

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, and some of the plot  
  
but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and  
  
Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter  
  
Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines  
  
are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 8 - Lothlorien  
  
She couldn't believe Gandalf was gone. He had quickly become a grandfather, a father and a friend in the same instant; not just to her but to all of them.  
  
Sam collapsed not too far from her, shaking with tears; Boromir fought back tears while holding an enraged Gimli. Legolas was stunned, in total shock and disbelief over the situation. Merry and Pippin were also broken down in tears, Merry trying to comfort the younger one whose head was on his lap, without comfort himself. Aragorn was the only one who was together enough to take over Gandalf's role, but Jacqueline knew he felt the same.  
  
She collapsed onto a rock distraught, in tears and feeling like she had let them all down. She knew that Gandalf would have fallen if she wasn't there causing much unnecessary grief, so she burned it in her mind that she could keep them from harm. But instead of drawing strength from it, like she had hoped, she only received pain.  
  
Jacqueline saw Aragorn, who had stood some ways off, approach them and instructed Legolas to get them moving again.  
  
"Give them a moment for pity's sake," Boromir argued, tears in his voice.  
  
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs!" Aragorn explained. "We must reach the Woods of Lothlorien. Come Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." He walked over to Sam as Legolas and Boromir walked over to Merry and Pippin. "On your feet Sam." Aragorn picked the hobbit up and helped him steady himself on his feet. Jacqueline could hear the sad undertone in his voice. Once Sam was up, Aragorn looked around for Frodo.  
  
"Frodo? Frodo!"  
  
Frodo was walking away from the company, but stopped when Aragorn called him the second time, and Frodo turned around. The tears flowing down his face broke Jacqueline's heart. True Gandalf would come back, but still she didn't see the point of putting them through this emotional pain.  
  
Legolas walked up to her, stirring her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him, tears still flowing.  
  
"I couldn't do it," Jacqueline said quietly. "He wouldn't let me save him."  
  
"I know Jacqueline," Legolas said softly, kneeling in front of her. "We all heard Gandalf's words. You must stop blaming yourself."  
  
"But I could have saved him, Legolas. I could have-"  
  
Jacqueline dropped her head in fresh tears. Legolas could see that this more recent loss had only added to more burdens that already lived in her heart, and he gently took her face in his hands.  
  
"Remember what Gandalf said while we were in Moria," he said softly, wiping away tears. "Things will always look up, but you must have the strength to see through the misfortunes to get there." He stood up and took her hands. "Come, we must hurry."  
  
She stood with his help, and they moved down the hill to catch up with the rest of the group. After much running they came to the edge of the Golden Wood, and for a moment Jacqueline forgot the heavy burden on her heart and mind. The wood was absolutely glorious, more spectacular than she ever imagined or seen depicted. Frodo suddenly stopped in front of her, but kept going when Jacqueline nearly bumped into him. They were both shaken from something in their heads, and Frodo's face spoke of apology. She smiled reassuringly at him, knowing what had caused the saddened hobbit to pause; Galadriel was speaking to him in his mind. Jacqueline began looking for Lothlorien's guard, knowing that they would be the Fellowship's next encounter. She couldn't see any definite signs of Haldir or anyone else save for the odd flash of golden-white hair.  
  
She had just turned her head to look over her right shoulder when she heard Legolas notch an arrow to his bow. Her head shot forward and was greeted by Rumil's arrow.  
  
Haldir stepped forward. "The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark."  
  
Gimli scoweled at the comment. Jacqueline, meanwhile, looked Rumil in the eye and saw an uncertainty about her there. What was it about her that made orcs and elves uneasy? She looked at Gimli, who had just proclaimed the woods unsafe. She guessed that she wasn't the only thing making people uneasy.  
  
"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back." Haldir responded. He looked over the group. "Come, she is waiting."  
  
Haldir led them up to Caras Galadhon. Jacqueline walked beside him, slightly ahead of the rest of them. Haldir had insisted and Jacqueline didn't argue or decline, which puzzled and pained Legolas some. They were drawn to eachother, Legolas and Jacqueline; everytime she needed anyone, be it in times of trouble or loneliness it was him who brought relief with either his watchful gaze or his presence. He wanted to protect her, and right when she needed him the most the situation and whatever power controlling it turned on him, keeping them just out of reach. Jacqueline was too lost in sadness to notice Legolas was not near her, and Rumil and Orophin would not let him near her. It was torture on his heart.  
  
The elves they passed merely looked on at the company unless their gaze met Jacqueline's, in which they would bow their head in a reverent manner. By now Jacqueline was as confused as she was upset; there was clearly something about her that she wasn't aware of. Finally they reaced the top of the stairs, and Galadriel proceeded downwards to greet them with Celeborn.  
  
Galadriel was more stunning than Jacqueline ever imagined, and Celeborn stood proud beside her. Both of their faces spoke of their wisdom, and Galadriel's features were laced with kind, sly cunningness while Celeborn's were written with authority. He gazed over the nine companions with sudden confusion.  
  
"Nine that are here yet then there were sent out from Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."  
  
Galadriel found the answer in Aragorn, but Jacqueline didn't hear it. Celeborn held her gaze, and the features in his face changed becoming much softer. A feeling began growing in her, a sense of familiarity towards both Celeborn and Galadriel. It was unusual, and a but unnerving despite being through what she had been through already. She was so puzzled over the feeling that she didn't hear Galadriel bid them rest, but came back to her senses when Aragorn touched her shoulder. She turned her head intending to look at Aragorn, but instead met Legolas' gaze; he looked hurt. She walked over to him, not knowing why really just that it was right to do so. Jacqueline looked behind her as they walked away, and Celeborn bowed his head at her.  
  
They camped out in the gardens of Lothlorien. Waterfalls fell with a crystalline sound, and flowers bloomed all around. The strange familiarity of Lothlorien, however, failed to leave her. So Jacqueline turned her attention to the sudden appearance of singing, hoping to make the feeling melt away. The song was for Gandalf, and knew just as Legolas, Aragorn and probably Boromir knew what they said about him. And like them, she was in too much grief to decipher it for the hobbits.  
  
She turned to look at Boromir and Aragorn, and she marvelled at Aragorn's ability to hide his sadness. Boromir, on the other hand, looked quite distraught and she cautiously crawled over to him since he was only a few feet away.  
  
"Boromir, are you okay?" she asked, concerned.  
  
"I heard her voice inside my head," he answered shakily. Aragorn stopped what he was doing to listen. "She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me even now that there is hope left. But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." He turned to look at her, smiling weakly. "I suppose you should be proof of hope, and yet I am still blind."  
  
"You will see hope Boromir," Jacqueline said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. "It will come to you just as it did to me, though I find that it is hard to hold onto."  
  
Aragorn looked slightly puzzled. "But you know what will become of us Jacqueline. Why is it that you find hope so hard to keep?"  
  
She sighed heavily. "I did not grow up with a sense of hope or kindness as you have. My mother died when I was very young, and was raised by my father, though it was more like being raised by an orc than a man."  
  
"What did he do to you?" Legolas asked, sitting beside her.  
  
She cast her eyes downward. "He used to beat me, for any reason he could find. Sometimes it was because I could not do the impossible tasks he told me to do; other times I was beat when he had come home drunk and angry."  
  
The three of them were in total shock. None of them could picture some thing as vile as what she had described.  
  
"Could you have left?" Aragorn asked softly. She shook her head.  
  
"No. He would have found me and he knew it. I had no where to go, and I was too scared of what he would do if I ever tried to leave."  
  
"You fought orcs, a cave troll, and the Watcher yet you could not fight your own father," Boromir said.  
  
"I know," She admitted. "It puzzles me too. I was hoping Gandalf could help me solve this riddle, but-"  
  
Jacqueline stopped mid-sentence, unable to finish. They understood and didn't press the matter further.  
  
"We should take some rest," Aragorn suggested. "We leave at dawn tomorrow."  
  
Both he and Boromir crawled to where they had chosen to rest and quickly fell asleep. Gimli and the hobbits had been sleeping for some time, having had somewhat of a decent meal. Jacqueline could not find sleep, and Legolas could tell.  
  
"Something troubles your mind," he said. She tried to smile.  
  
"I'm starting to think you can read my mind."  
  
He smiled back, taking her hand. "Tell me what keeps you from sleep."  
  
Her smile quickly faded. "I keep seeing my mother's death over and over again. I can hear the yelling, the screaming, my mother crying out in pain. I can see myself, such a young child, watching from the stairs as my father beat my mother to death. There was so much blood everywhere, all her blood." She covered her face with her hands, tears returning. Legolas finally realized what had pushed her to try and save Gandalf; he was the father she never had. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, trying to ebb away her sadness. He looked up and saw Haldir looking down at them from a flet not far up. It was almost as if disproval lay in his features, like it was inappropriate for Legolas to comfor her. Legolas pretended to not take notice and instead turned his attention to Jacqueline.  
  
"Perhaps some fond memories will help you sleep," he suggested. Her sobs had died down when he pulled her to him, and she sat herself up.  
  
"And if it doesn't?" she asked quietly, wiping tears away.  
  
"There is only one way to find out Jacqueline," he answered smiling. She smiled as well, knowing he was right. She took a deep breath before she began. 


	9. Memories from Celeborn and Gifts from Ga...

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: this chapter revolves more around Jacqueline than anyone else so I warn you now. Next chapter will continue involving all the characters I promise! Don't forget the feedback it's been great so far! As for those who are asking about whether Jacqueline and Legolas are gonna have something going on.....well you'll just have to wait and find out! :p  
  
Chapter 9 - Memories from Celeborn  
  
"I remember, when I was very young and my mother was still alive, my parents and I went up north. To me it felt like my first real winter, because there was more snow there than at home. I used to sit in the front window, just watching the snowflakes fall as if they had all the time in the world. My mother would then sit me by a roaring fire in the fireplace or take me out into the woods, and tell me stories of creatures that once lived there."  
  
"Do you remember any of those stories?" Legolas asked.  
  
Jacqueline shook her head. "Not enough to tell accurately."  
  
Silence settled on them, until Legolas noticed a scar on her right palm. Curious, he let his fingers trace it, and was astonished when he saw how big it really was. It ran from mid-palm to her mid-forearm.  
  
"Your father did this to you?" he asked, partially knowing her answer. She nodded, and he pulled her sleeve back down. "Take rest and forget about him. He will not hurt you any longer."  
  
Jacqueline nodded, smiling weakly at Legolas. He crawled back to where his makeshift bed was, and quickly fell asleep. She walked over to a nearby waterfall and splashed some water on her face. She got up and was about to walk back to her company when Haldir approached her.  
  
"My Lady," he bowed. "The Lord of the Wood seeks an audience with you."  
  
She was startled. "W-what would he want with me?"  
  
"I know not my Lady," Haldir answered. "But if it please you, I would be greatly honoured to escort you back up to Caras Galadhon."  
  
"Very well Haldir," she answered, uncertainy in her voice. "Then let us proceed."  
  
Haldir offered his hand, which she took cautiously. Once she took it, he raised it to his lips and kissed it softly. He smiled and led her back up the great staircase to Caras Galadhon where Celeborn was waiting. His back was to them, apparently reading something. Haldir bowed anyway and indicated for Jacqueline to do the same.  
  
"My Lord, the Lady Jacqueline." he said. Celeborn nodded, acknowledging him. He waved him away, not turning, and Haldir kissed her on the cheek.  
  
"I shall return to escort you later," he said before leaving. She nodded, not knowing what to say.  
  
"Do you know why you are here in Middle Earth?" Celeborn asked, his back still facing her.  
  
"In all honestly my Lord, I do not. I'm afraid there isn't much I know anymore." Jacqueline admitted.  
  
"You know more than you realize, child," Celeborn told her, turning to face her. "There is much about your past that is hidden in your mind."  
  
She looked startled and a little confused. "Do you know these things about my past?"  
  
He nodded. "Not all, but I know enough."  
  
"Would you tell me what you know, my Lord?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Do you feel that you are strong enough to hear what I know?" he countered.  
  
Jacqueline swallowed hard and nodded, and Celeborn offered her his hand. "Then I shall awaken your memory."  
  
They walked through Caras Galadhon in silence, waiting to speak until they passed all the other Lothlorien elves. He walked with her in the same manner as he did with Galadriel, and it made her uncomfortable; she was only human.  
  
"You are more than human, Aier," Celeborn said, reading her thoughts. "You are the one thing that can fully destroy the evil of Mordor."  
  
"But won't the Ring's destruction succeed in that?" she inquired.  
  
He shook his head. "I have seen through dreams into the future, very close to your time. Mordor's evil remains, split into different lands separated by vast waters. If the future holds true and you do not ensure this evil is destroyed, your time will remain unchanged."  
  
Jacqueline nodded thoughtfully as fragments of unknown memories came to her. "Elrond suspected as much. He spoke to me of his suspicions before I left Rivendell."  
  
"And he has great cause to, judging from what I told you, does he not?" Celeborn inquired, looking at her.  
  
She nodded again. "But who am I to stop such evil?"  
  
"You are the child of my daughter Celebrian and a great wizard. You are the complete goodness of Middle Earth; a goodness so powerful it could eliminate Mordor for all time." he explained.  
  
"But how can I be?!" she cried, exasperated. "I am of the race of men born in a later time!"  
  
"Peace Aier," Celeborn replied, raising his free hand to quiet her. "I shall explain. Some time after Arwen was born, Celebrian was captured by orcs. Your twin brothers, Elrohir and Elledan did save her, but she was not the same. She could not enjoy life as she once did, despite being with child. She tried to no avail, and left Elrond and your siblings to sail west. A mysterious wind took her elsewhere, you know the rest of the story."  
  
Jacqueline looked away. "But this wizard....who is he and where does he come into my story?"  
  
Celeborn sighed sadly. "I know not Aier. Celebrian made no mention of him."  
  
They stopped on the flet Legolas had seen Haldir in earlier. Jacqueline sat in a regal-looking chair and gazed down at the now-sleeping Fellowship.  
  
"I have a distinct idea of how my story ends," she sighed. "I have seen it through my dreams, though I have not mentioned it to my friends. I fear it would break their hearts."  
  
He walked over to her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It is a hard fate to accept, granddaughter. But you have friends to make the way easier."  
  
"But I wish not to bring that grief to them, especially when we get to Mordor." She sighed again, still looking at the sleeping company.  
  
"They will be able to see what you cannot. Take their counsel wisely, for it may open some doors hidded to you before." Celeborn looked down at the group as well. "Go rest Aier. The journey ahead is still long, and safe havens will not come often."  
  
Jacqueline turned to look at him and nodded in agreement. She got up and hugged her grandfather. "I promise that if I return from Mordor, Caras Galadhon will be my first destination."  
  
Celeborn smiled. "And so shall we wait until that day."  
  
Haldir then appeared, ready to escort her back down. Smiling her goodnight, she walked back to Haldir who took her hand. They walked back down slowly.  
  
"You have much of your mother's beauty, my Lady," Haldir said, softly holding her gaze. "It far surpasses that of any elf in the Wood save for the Lord and Lady."  
  
Jacqueline blushed slightly. "You are too kind, Haldir. I do not deserve such compliments from Lorien's captain."  
  
"On the contrary my Lady," he replied as they came to the bottom of the stairs. "It is I who does not deserve to be in the presence of such beauty." He kissed her forehead. "I wish you peaceful dreams, melamin." He watched as she walked back to her company.  
  
The next day they rose to pack for their journey. Although no one had mentioned it, the entire Fellowship noticed a difference in her; a calm and final acceptance of some path unbeknowest to any of them. There was also a determination set in her eyes, a private quest to gain knowledge, which was odd because to them she knew everything.  
  
Galadriel met with the Fellowship before they left, and gave each member gifts for the long journey. When she reached Jacqueline she bid them away, for what came next was not something that allowed an audience.  
  
"Beloved granddaughter, to you I give the flower of Celebrian," Galadriel said as she slipped it over Jacqueline's head. It was a small glass locket the size of a small butterfly on a mithril chain. The flower, which no longer bloomed in Middle Earth, looked like a daisy, except that the petals were a marble of gold and silver, and the center as well as the stem was a rich green. Jacqueline examined it briefly before gazing back into her gradmother's eyes.  
  
"You konw your past, and you now know all of your mother's past that is contained in Lothlorien which you did not already know. It is now up to you to unlock the rest of the story to determine your own future." Galadriel said. Jacqueline read the underlying message in her eyes.  
  
"Is it really necessary to be alone?" she asked, hoping for a different answer than her dreams gave her.  
  
"Your position in this quest seperates you from your company, just as the Ringbearer was meant to be alone," Galadriel explained. "They will never understand why you both will have to make the decisions that you will make, which is why you must be prepared to leave them behind for the sake of all. It is what you were born to do, otherwise I would not have summoned you to Middle Earth."  
  
"So then the how and why of my arrival was known," Jacqueline concluded as her grandmother nodded. "Why did you not tell Elrond?"  
  
"It was not time for that knowledge to come to pass," Galadriel answered. "It is important for you to remember that everything has a time and place, for that knowledge will help you in dark times ahead."  
  
"Will I ever see them again?" Jacqueline asked despairingly.  
  
Galadriel smiled, knowing what her granddaughter was truly asking. "All the knowledge you will need is inside of you. All of your mother's memories lay in your mind, and you are still connected to your father, though he is no longer able to physically move through Middle Earth. Both will help you come back to them, especially him."  
  
"Him?" Jacqueline was puzzled.  
  
"Do not commit to him you must leave here, but rather he who would follow you right into the Cracks of Doom. It is heartbreak otherwise."  
  
Jacqueline smiled, grasping finally who her grandmother spoke of. She let her smile speak for her, and Galadriel collected her in her arms.  
  
"Namarie, granddaughter. Namarie."  
  
Jacqueline left Galadriel's company. Human ears aside, she now began looking like the Lorien elves, who were now her kin. She wore blue leggings, dark grey boots and a silver tunic with intricate leaves and flourishes all over it. A long sleeve silver blue shirt was underneath the tunic, but it was hard to see because of the green overcoat she wore, fashioned identical to Celeborn's save for the design which was silver where it was blue on the Lord of Lothlorien. She kept her vambraces and her belt was blue, fastened by a buckle of 3 silver metal strands entwined around eachother. Her sword and Elrond's dagger had been sent to the boats, but there was still a place for them on her belt.  
  
When she arrived at the riverbank the Fellowship noticed the change in attire as if for the first time, though she had been wearing these new garments since the dawn. She too wore a cloak identical to her companions much at her insistence, as she did not desire to stand out. Haldir, who was overseeing the preparations of the Fellowship's departure, walked up to her and bowed slightly.  
  
"My Lady, I must confess I see it as folly that you are leaving on a perilous journey that does not require your assistance, contrary to what is held as common belief," he said. "I believe you would be better off here in the Golden Wood with your people."  
  
"Haldir, your words may sound wise, and if I were still in the same mindframe I was last night I most likely would have followed," Jacqueline replied. "But I am more than a child of Lothlorien, and the fate of Middle Earth will rest on both the Ringbearer and I. I am no use here."  
  
"But I cannot bear to see you leave," Haldir whispered despairingly.  
  
"I know why you would desire to see me stay Haldir, and I tell you that I cannot give myself to you." Jacqueline said quietly. Haldir sighed heavily, heartbreak in his eyes. She didn't want to hurt him, but there was no way around it. "Haldir, do not grieve over my leave," she said reassuringly, placing a hand on his cheek. "Such a thing between us does not exist. However, I do believe happiness lies in someone else."  
  
Jacqueline looked above Haldir to a nearby flet to see Uruviel timidly watching Haldir. Faint signs of love flicked in her soft, misty blue eyes as she gazed at the captain of the Wood. He turned to look up at what held Jacqueline's gaze, and was struck by the Lorien maid. She stepped back, shy and afraid of her bold move. He smiled kindly at her, still overwhelmed by her beauty, and turned back to Jacqueline.  
  
"This beauty is the one I shall bind myself to?" he asked, wonder in his voice.  
  
She looked back up at the shy Uruviel, then back at Haldir. "I do not confess to know all things, but some speak for themselves."  
  
Haldir mirrored her smile and bowed before her. "May the Lady smile upon you always."  
  
Jacqueline walked to the Fellowship who were now ready to go. Boromir was crawling into a boat with Merry and Pippin, and Aragorn was sitting in another boat with Sam and Frodo a few feet from the shore. Gimli was already in the third boat waiting for Legolas and Jacqueline.  
  
Legolas watched Jacqueline approach, in awe of the change that had come over her. Her black hair fell in neat waves to the middle of her back and her blue eyes were calming. Gone was her uneasiness, her fear of being in an alien world; it was replaced with a regal assurance, not to be mistaken for arrogance. Soemthing had happened after he fell asleep.  
  
Jacqueline crawled into the front of the boat, smiling briefly at Legolas who could do nothing but smile back in wonder. She took up a paddle and they were off down to the river Anduin, and as they paddled across the main river that flowed through Lothlorien Jacqueline followed Frodo's gaze back to see Galadriel. A hand raised in a farewell gesture and a mix of dread, hopefulness and a glint of sadness was their last clear memory of Jacqueline's grandmother. 


	10. Revealing truths in Amon Hen

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: Don't forget the feedback plz it's so helpful! For those who are saying that this'll be a Legolas romance rather than a Boromir romance....well don't count Boromir out yet!!! This story can go either way, and I've still got a whole lot of story to get through(I write as I go). PS - chapter 11 won't come until I get up to 20 reviews. Believe me I need it right now(bad case of writer's block).  
  
Chapter 10 - Revealing truths in Amon Hen  
  
They paddled for a long time down the Anduin, no one saying a word. Everyone was deep in thought, and those paddling were focused on getting them all to Amon Hen before nightfall. It wasn't long before they reached two kingly guardians of a long-lost empire.  
  
"Frodo, the Argonath!" Aragorn said, half-smiling. Frodo followed his gaze. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."  
  
They all looked up in astonishment at the two statues towering over them as they canoed past. Carved right out of the steep rock walls, they stood tall and solemn.  
  
They reached Parth Galen right after passing the Argonath. The paddlers got the boats right up onto the pebbled beach and everyone climbed out. Gimli and the hobbits went to build a small fire for a meal while the others unpacked the boats.  
  
"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn stated while unpacking. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."  
  
Gimli looked at him, clearly displeased. "Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see!"  
  
"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength master dwarf." Aragorn replied, ending the argument. It didn't sit with Gimli.  
  
"Recover my.....?!" he huffed. He let his insult show as Legolas approached Aragorn.  
  
"We should leave now," Legolas said quietly.  
  
"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore," Aragorn objected. "We must wait for cover of darkness."  
  
Legolas returned his gaze back to the opposite shore. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near," He looked back at Aragorn. "I can feel it!"  
  
"He is right, Aragorn," Jacqueline said, fastening her sword to her belt as Gimli's resentment continued. "The patrolling orcs may be less of a problem than the danger Legolas speaks of."  
  
"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked. His question woke Sam with a start, and Aragorn dashed into the forest. Jacqueline was about to follow when Legolas grabbed her arm.  
  
"Wait Jacqueline," he pleaded, his voice causing her to face him. "I must ask you something that has bewildered my heart and mind."  
  
Jacqueline was completely puzzled. "What is it?"  
  
He took a deep breath before continuing. "What happened when we reached Lothlorien? You did not seem yourself."  
  
She sighed, understanding why Legolas had seemed so hurt and confused in the Golden Wood. "I was not myself last night. Much was revealed to me that I did not have any idea of. Walking into Lothlorien did something to me; it thrusted me into a clouded state of mind. Many things came over me that I did not know how to deal with."  
  
"Why, did you not tell me?" he asked, concerned.  
  
"I do not know," she answered, looking down. "I was so overwhelmed I was not sure of anything really except the pain my father gave me. Fortunately, there was one who was able to pull me out."  
  
"It was Haldir wasn't it?" Legolas' heart dropped slightly.  
  
"No it wasn't Haldir," Jacqueline reassured. "It was my grandfather, Celeborn."  
  
"The Lord of Lothlorien?" he exclaimed quietly. "He is your kin?"  
  
"He is," she confirmed. "The Lord and Lady's daughter Celebrian was my mother, making Elrond's children my sister and brothers."  
  
Legolas looked away a moment still amazed, then back at her. "Then how do you lack so many elvish traits of both of your parents are elves?"  
  
"Because Elrond is not my father," she answered.  
  
"Then who is?"  
  
Jacqueline opened her mouth to answer, but shut it when she heard someone's voice yell out in the forest. Legolas stopped as well, and the both of them inclined their ears hoping for the voice to cry again. They heard three words.  
  
"Frodo, I'm sorry!"  
  
Jacqueline's eyes widened and she broke away from Legolas into the forest, while the rest of them dispersed into the woods. 


	11. Battling New Enemies

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: I know I said I was waiting for 20 reviews, but the reviews have been the best so I'm putting up the next chapter. Seems a lot of you really want Jacqueline to head Boromir's way.....well keep in mind where we are in the story........  
  
Chapter 11 - Battling New Enemies  
  
"Boromir!" Jacqueline called out. She ran like the wind, lost in a moment when she didn't know the why of what she was doing, just that it had to be done. She heard rustling ahead and pused faster, stumbling upon Boromir. He turned to look at her, clearly upset. She paused by a tree for a moment, then walked up to him slowly.  
  
"It possessed me," he shakily said quietly. "I could not fight the temptation. I will fail everyone."  
  
"No, Boromir you will not fail," she replied reassuringly. "You are destined for great things, and you will see them I promise."  
  
A faint thundering noise caught Jacqueline's ear; her mother's elvish traits were becoming more permanent now. They surfaced momentarily ever since they climbed down to Moria, but ever since discovering her true heritage she knew what caused them and because she accepted them they were becoming a part of her. She surveyed the area before looking back at Boromir.  
  
"Go find the other hobbits. Danger approaches." she warned.  
  
"What about Frodo?" he enquired.  
  
"Aragorn is with him," she comforted. "Please, Boromir, find the other hobbits. They will not be able to defend themselves against what comes this way."  
  
Boromir nodded and ran off into the woods. Jacqueline went off in another direction, having picked up on what she was nearly positive was a conversation between Frodo and Aragorn. Thankfully she wasn't far from them, and she arrived just in time to see Frodo look Aragorn in the eye, asking one of the hardest questions Aragorn would be faced with.  
  
"Can you protect me from yourself?!" Frodo asked, exposing the Ring on his small palm. "Would you destroy it?"  
  
The Ring began letting out eerie ancient whispers, bent on tempting the listening ear. Aragorn looked at it as he advanced towards the hobbit, seeming emotionless yet fighting his own inner battle. He dropped to his knees in front of Frodo, closed his small fingers around the ring and pushed the hobbit's hand away.  
  
"I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor." he confirmed.  
  
Frodo nodded expressively. "I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand."  
  
The comment was meant for both Aragorn and Jacqueline, who Frodo had finally spotted her soundlessly moving towards them. Aragorn turned to face her and smiled, welcoming her presence. She returned the gesture, and he turned back to Frodo who had a painful smile on his face. Aragorn suddenly stood up, the smile gone from his face as he saw Sting glow blue.  
  
"Go on Frodo," he urged, joining Jacqueline where she stood. They both had their swords unsheathed, and Jacqueline looked behind them as Aragorn gazed at Frodo. "Run," he said. "Run!"  
  
Frodo left with all the speed he could muster. Jacqueline and Aragorn walked side by side around the decaying Seat of Seeing, greeting the advancing Uruk-hai. Aragorn approached them with his sword up at his face, and Jacqueline eyed them coldly while slowly drawing out her dagger, the first weapon to reach her hip always. They both half smiled at the enemy before attacking. Between the two of them they were able to prove to be a strong force, but the hideous creatures began coming from all directions and Aragorn was soon forced up the Seat if he wanted to stay alive. Jacqueline was forced under it, but for some odd reason not even she could drive fear into them. They were confused, but bent on killing members of the Free Peoples and anything they didn't understand.  
  
Suddenly Jacqueline began feeling tired and overwhelmed. Her mother may have been an elf, but even elves eventually grow tired especially one who wasn't used to being half-elven. Plus she had no idea how to tap into her father's powers, or even if she had access to them. It all seemed near hopeless when a battle cry rang out in the clearing and Aragorn leaped from the Seat onto the Uruks heading towards her. She breathed a sigh of relief, and raised her sword again, hacking off the head of an Uruk-hai who tried to stab Aragorn in the back. Gimli and Legolas arrived then, coming to the aid of their two comrades. Gimli swung his axe, cracking an Uruk- hai's skull as Legolas shot three consecutive arrows. The troops kept coming like there was no end to them, but the small group of friends refused to let up the defense. Without effort Legolas stabbed an Uruk with one of his Lothlorien arrows and shot it at another, while Gimli continued to wield his axe. Jacqueline stabbed one behind Gimli, and he nodded his thanks. Aragorn stabbed an Uruk warrior behind him, and almost immediately Legolas shot another warrior who had caught Aragorn off-guard. Jacqueline brought her sword down behind Legolas, slaying an Uruk-hai that had come up behind him. He looked at the fallen dead creature, then at Jacqueline who shrugged.  
  
"You watch my back and I watch yours, right?"  
  
He smiled and nodded, astounded that she had even known about his protectiveness of her in Moria. They all continued fighting until they heard three ox-horn blasts ring through Amon Hen. 


	12. Dancing with Death

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and some of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline belongs to Tolkien and Jackson, most of the LOTR character lines are credited to Peter Jackson and his assistant scriptwriter(most of the character's lines are from the movie), and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: After this chapter I'll be taking a break from the story. I'm reading through TTT as we speak, so I want to finish it before I go on, which means that the dialogue will kind of belong to me, but they'll basically be saying the same thing as in the book, just more in the line with the way the characters have been talking if that makes any sense. The dialogue will be an adaptation of what's in the book. Thanks for the feedback it's been great!!!  
  
Chapter 12 - Dancing with Death  
  
"The horn of Gondor!" Legolas exclaimed. Jacqueline sheathed her weapons.  
  
"Boromir!" Aragorn gasped.  
  
They all ran in the direction of the source of the sound, Jacqueline faster than the other three. She had dug deep for some sort of strength and found more than she dreamed she possessed. She ran faster than the Uruks around her, too fast for them to catch. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas struggled behind her, getting caught in the crowd of deformed soldiers. They watched as Jacqueline ran nimbly like Legolas could, quickly fading from their sight as she was bound to reach Boromir as quickly as possible.  
  
Soon Lurtz came into Jacqueline's vew, walking with all the time in the world towards Boromir. She pulled out Elrond's dagger as she ran, getting all the closer to Saruman's captain as he pulled out the first arrow. Not this, she thought to herself. If death was going to be knocking on so many doors, it was going to have to knock on hers before it even thought of heading to Boromir. She had no idea what would happen to the story when she saved Boromir, and right now she did care; all she cared about was him.  
  
Jacqueline raised her arm and, when the giant came in her range, drove the dagger with all her might into Lurtz's back. He threw his head back and let out an unnatural scream of pain. He dropped his bow and arrow, whipping around to see his attacker. Jacqueline got knocked back and took the dagger down with her. She looked back up to see Lurtz on top of her, sword drawn. Her dagger got knocked right out of her grasp as she scrabled away barely missing his lethal strikes; the Uruk moved fast for a large creature, so fast that she couldn't even unsheath her sword.  
  
Lurtz was just about to land what most likely would have been a killing blow when another sword blocked Lurtz and unexpectedly pushed him back. It was Aragorn who had arrived before Legolas and Gimli. He took up the fight with Lurtz giving Jacqueline a chance to recover. She sat only for a quick moment, then got up and ran to Boromir to help him protect Merry and Pippin. As the fight progressed, Jacqueline and Boromir caught each other's glance and for the first time Boromir smiled, his first definite thanks to her.  
  
Suddenly the Uruk-hai increased, and Merry and Pippin were forcefully taken by the creatures. Both Jacqueline and Boromir hollered in protest, but there was nothing either of them could do; there were too many Uruks around them. Upset and angry, they attacked their enemies with a new wave of strength. The soldiers of Saruman began decreasing in number, either running off in the direction of where Merry and Pippin were being taken or dying at the hands of Jacqueline and Boromir. An Uruk archer notched an arrow to his bow some twenty feet away, aiming it at Boromir who was on Jacqueline's right. She saw it, and shoved Boromir out of the way but was not quick enough herself; the arrow drove through the underside of her right arm, pinning her to the tree behind her.  
  
She let out a blood-curling cry, the pain being unbearable. Nothing her father had ever done to her hurt like this. Boromir threw a knife at the archer, ending its pitiful life, and ran to Jacqueline.  
  
"Let me help," he said, grabbing the arrow.  
  
"No," she protested, pushing him away. "Some still stand. You would be killed before you managed to pull the arrow out."  
  
He looked helplessly at her, then turned slaying the few remaining Uruks with the help of Aragorn who had slain Lurtz. Moments later Legolas and Gimli arrived, only to see dead creatures and an injured comrade. Legolas could hear Merry and Pippin yelling for help in the distance, and he became even more distraught when he saw Jacqueline breathing heavy and half- collapsed. He walked to her quickly to see if he could be of any use while Gimli checked on the others.  
  
"I fear this arrow may have been poisoned," he commented sadly, observing the ugly blackish-green around the wound.  
  
"It was," she confirmed gasping. "I can feel the poison running in my blood."  
  
"I cannot pull this out myself," he stated, turning to his friends. "It is burrowed too deep in the tree."  
  
"Then let us break it," Gimli suggested.  
  
"No," Boromir objected. "It may break the wrong way and pieces may lodge in her arm. We do not have the time or the tools to deal with such an injury."  
  
"He is right. We must pull the arrow out," Aragorn agreed. They all agreed as well and acted quickly, as Jacqueline was growing weaker. Boromir walked up to her and wrapped her free arm around his neck, holding her left hand with his. He slipped his right arm around her waist, afraid she would collapse without him. Legolas grabbed the arrow with his right hand and placed his left on the tree for stability. Aragorn grabbed the arrow with both hands while Gimli ripped some of his tunic to wrap around her arm. Aragorn nodded at Legolas and in one swift move they yanked the arrow out. Jacqueline let out another cry of pain as she exhaustedly collapsed into Boromir. Gimli rushed over to her, skillfully removing the vambrace and wrapping the vile wound to stop the bleeding.  
  
"Head back to the camp," Aragorn ordered. "I'll find something to help her."  
  
Aragorn ran off into the forest while Boromir helped Jacqueline walk. Legolas refilled his nearly-empty quiver as they walked, and Gimli picked up the dagger Jacqueline carried and cleaned it. When they got close to their camp Jacqueline's legs gave out on her. Aragorn met them where they stopped with a cup of river water and whatever herb Aragorn had set out to find. She took the cup with shaky hands and drank some of it, grimacing at its bitter taste. It brought back her strength, and she could feel the poison slipping away. She drank more as Legolas took the rest of the herb and crushed it into a paste while muttering words in elvish. Aragorn, catching on to Legolas' actions, told Gimli to untie the cloth. Then Legolas told the dwarf to remove the cloth, and the moment it left her skin he applied the paste to both sides of her wound. She scowled, the pain increasing for only a moment then decreasing much to her relief. Boromir ripped a strip of his own clothing and wrapped it around Jacqueline's arm. He tossed her now-removed vambraces aside, as they were now useless.  
  
Sudden splashing caught all of their attention, and everyone ran to the beach except Boromir. Jacqueline placed a reassuring hand on his, squeezing it to assure him she was fine, and nodded her head indicating him to follow the others. He squeezed back and ran, and Jacqueline got up slowly as strength and feeling came back into her legs. She walked back to the shore just in time to see Legolas push one of the elf boats into the water, stating that Frodo and Sam were already on the eastern shore; Aragorn didn't move and neither did anyone else.  
  
"You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked conclusively.  
  
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." Aragorn answered, wrapping a cut on his arm.  
  
"Then it has all been in vain!" Gimli exclaimed in distress. "The Fellowship has failed."  
  
Aragorn placed a hand on both Gimli's and Legolas' shoulder, and in response they both placed a hand on top of his, and Boromir mimicked Aragorn.  
  
"Not if we hold true to eachother," Aragorn stated sharing a smile with them all. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment to death. Not while we have strength left." He walked from them and began picking a couple of things up. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some orc!"  
  
Legolas, Gimli and Boromir looked at eachother with knowing smiles. "Yes! Haha!" Gimli roared with excitement. They all then looked at Jacqueline, who stood on Parth Galen gazing at the eastern shore. Would she go with them, or follow Frodo?  
  
"Jacqueline," Boromir called. "Will you accompany us, or go with the Ring?"  
  
She didn't move save for the smile on her face. "Frodo has Sam; that is all he needs at the moment. Help will come to him in his dark hours away from us. Now our quest turns in another direction to our two friends heading towards Isengard, for that is how the story goes. The way is long," she turned to face them. "But we will get there, together."  
  
They all shared a smile, and Aragorn turned and ran into the forest followed by Boromir. Gimli stopped Jacqueline before she passed him and handed her Elrond's dagger; she smiled her thanks as they all ran after their friends. And so they were, the Five Hunters on a new quest to save their friends. 


	13. From Emyn Muil to Rohan

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: Okay, this is where I go from movie to book. Please be gentle. Also, I know some of you want a Boromir romance and some want a Legolas romance. My answer to you: don't count the chicks before they've hatched, and believe me they ain't hatching for awhile if you catch my drift.  
  
Chapter 13 - From Emyn Muil to Rohan  
  
The forest fell quickly behind as they climbed over sharp slopes with mercilessly jagged edges. They ran while the sky turned red and dusk fell, turning the land into a mass of grey, black and other such dark colours. It slowed them down, for they could not see as well in the night and they had come to the high plains of Emyn Muil where the path was hard to follow. Menacingly it stretched from North to South, its eastern ridges swelled with ravines and gullies while the western ridges were near-impossible. The hunters rested, having lost the trail and raching a hard choice.  
  
"Which way would they have gone, do you guess?" Legolas asked generally, allowing anyone to answer. "North to take them straight to Isengard, south to strike the Entwash, or would they head to Fangorn?"  
  
"They would not make for the Entwash regardless of their mark," Aragorn replied, studying the landscape best he could.  
  
"And unless Saruman has grown in power and much toil is in Rohan, which I doubt, they would take the quickest route." Boromir added.  
  
"Then let us go north," Aragorn concluded, glancing at Jacqueline who only nodded in agreement. So off they were again, running down into a dale between grey hills on their left and a ridged cliff on their right. A sliver of a stream trickled among large rocks at the bottom of the hills they passed. Aragorn was low, searching for any clues that would help, while Legolas and Jacqueline ran ahead being the faster of the five. They stumbled upon something and called the others to them.  
  
"It seems that we have overtaken some of those we hunt," Legolas exclaimed, pointing downwards.  
  
"Yet another riddle greets us," said Gimli. "We cannot wait for the dawn which would help us to read it."  
  
"It does not seem hopeful which ever way you read it." Legolas stated. He turned to Boromir and Aragorn. "Does anyone dwell here?"  
  
"No," Boromir answered. "We are too far from Minas Tirith; rarely do the Riders of Rohan venture this far out."  
  
"I would say that it might have been a group of men hunting if it were not for the immense doubt I feel," Aragorn added.  
  
"Then what are your thoughts?" Gimli questioned.  
  
"There must have been a debate of sorts; not surprising with such creatures. These here are Northern Orcs, not the ones we seek. It seems our enemy has another enemy of its own. Most likely this dispute was over their route."  
  
"Or their prisoners," Gimli said, contributing to Aragorn's theory. "Let us hope their end did not come here, if it came at all."  
  
Aragorn searched the area for more clues as to what happened with Boromir's help, quickly covering much of the area but finding nothing more. Jacqueline walked around the bodies examining the blood on the ground. Legolas walked up to her, curious about her actions.  
  
"Tell me something," he said quietly. "Did our friends meet their end here? Either of them?"  
  
Jacqueline crouched down and stroked her fingers through the blood-stained grass. It was starting to dry, and the vulgar smell was not as repulsive as it should have been. She stared into the distance as she examined the blood on her hand.  
  
"No. Neither Merry nor Pippin found their end. They were on the side when this fight occured. These Moria Orcs tried to rebel against our targets, fighting about the ransom up for our friends. As a result, they paid with their lives."  
  
Boromir joined them, his frustration on his sleeve. "How long ago was this quarrel?"  
  
"Hours. How many I am not sure," she answered, not breaking her gaze. "They still have a great lead on us, and they will not stop unless they are forced to."  
  
Having found out nothing more, they continued as dawn approached and came to another stream where Aragorn picked up the trail.  
  
"This is what we are searching for!" he exclaimed. "Come, we follow it!"  
  
They all darted forward, suddenly filled with new energy. Their newfound strength took them to a crest and the crisp morning air blew around them. The day crept up behind them and the Five Hunters turned to greet it. The sun came up as a red orb over the hilltops, waking the sleeping earth. The colours of day bloomed before them giving life to Rohan in the west, and beyond that lay the land of Gondor.  
  
Aragorn's and Boromir's hearts lifted at the sight of it. "Gondor!" Boromir breathed.  
  
"How much I would desire to look upon you at happier times. Not yet does our road lead to you." Aragorn sighed regretfully.  
  
Boromir placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let us go. One day our paths will take us there, and Gondor will be in its glory once again."  
  
They turned back north where the ridge dropped sharply down and stretched to the East Wall of Rohan, ending Emyn Muil. Legolas' ever-watchful gaze caught something in the sky.  
  
"Look!" he pointed. "The eagle, again! He seems to be flying away, high back to the north and with great speed!"  
  
"He must be high indeed; my eyes cannot find him," Aragorn replied.  
  
"But mine can," Jacqueline answered, gazing upwards. "He is Gwaihir, the Windlord."  
  
They all looked astonishingly at her, moreso Legolas. "How is it that your eyes can see what mine cannot?!" he exclaimed.  
  
She looked away blinking, breaking her stare. Pain had surged into her eyes. "I, I am not sure," she answered, still blinking. She looked at them. "That was my first time ever attempting that. I had no idea I could even do such a thing."  
  
"Do you think it might be a gift of your father?" Legolas asked.  
  
"It's possible," amazedly she answered. "I had not thought of that as an answer."  
  
"Why? Who is your father?" Boromir interrupted, obvious to the fact that Legolas knew something the other two didn't.  
  
"These are questions that can be answered later," Aragorn stated. "Something moves over the plain ahead."  
  
"It is a great company," Legolas corrected him. "Maybe twelve leagues or so away. It is hard to tell."  
  
"I think it is quite clear where we go now," Gimli said, speaking up. "Let us find the quickest path to the field."  
  
"There is no quicker path than that the ones our enemies left behind," Aragorn commented. They followed the path downwards with daylight as their guide. Dropped, ripped broken and casted-away objects outlined an even clearer way and the hunters followed it with ease. It took them around the northern part of the hill and followed the rough staircase downwards.  
  
Without warning they came to the meadows of Rohan. The stream fell into waterplants and underground tunnels gurgling away to the Entwash Vale in the distance. A rich lively smell flooded the air; spring graced Rohan. Legolas inhaled deeply, becoming refreshed by the scent.  
  
"The fragrance is sweet. Let us run; it is better than rest."  
  
"Light feet move quicker here," said Aragorn. "Now we can close the gap between them and us!"  
  
Single file they ran, the run being easier. West the grass had been destroyed by orc-feet who had marched by that place. The grass of Rohan had been bruised and tortured. Not long after they had started off, Aragorn veered off to the right.  
  
"Stay, and don't follow yet!" he called over his shoulder. Familiar footprints caught his eye and he followed it. Another set of hideous footprints choaked them out, but Aragorn was not in total despair; an object caught his eye. He picked it up and re-joined his group.  
  
"Those are definitely hobbit feet that made those prints," he commented. "Most likely Pippin's; he's smaller. There was also this."  
  
He held up what looked to be a beech leaf, catching the sunlight and reflecting it back.  
  
"An elven-cloak brooch!" Gimli and Legolas gasped in unison. Aragorn nodded.  
  
"The leaves of Lorien don't fall without cause. This was intentionally left behind; Pippin must have run from his captors."  
  
"Then he still was alive and able to use his legs," Gimli said, relieved. "Our pursuit is not in vain."  
  
"Let us hope he at least still lives, should we catch up to them," Boromir replied.  
  
"Come, let us go!" Legolas urged. "The thought of those small folk being mercilessly driven weighs my heart."  
  
The sun moved across the sky in its usual manner as the hunters pressed on. Shadows grew from the east, but the orcs had now vanished from sight being very far ahead. Aragorn stopped them when night began to fall.  
  
"Now we make a choice," he proclaimed. "Rest, or go on?"  
  
"We will be farther behind should we rest," Legolas said.  
  
"But surely even orcs need rest?" Gimli tried.  
  
"Orcs rarely travel in daylight, but our targets have. It is doubtful they will take up rest at night." Legolas pointed out.  
  
"But we will lose the trail if we go by night." Boromir countered.  
  
"The trail does not change so far as I can see," Legolas answered.  
  
"I could guess and lead you in the dark," Aragorn thought out loud. "But if they turned or we became lost, it would be long before we found the trail in day again."  
  
"Also if the captives had escaped or been carried off in another direction, we may pass the signs." Gimli said.  
  
"Very true, Master Dwarf," Aragorn agreed. "But if I read the clues correctly then the decision was final and they are on their way to Isengard."  
  
"But it would be folly to trust their judgments," Gimli argued. "And what if one or both of them escaped? In the dark we would miss the signs just as you would have missed that brooch without light."  
  
"Our friends would be wearier since then, and the Orcs more alert," Legolas told him. "Escape will only come if we are the cause. How is uncertain, but we must overtake them before all else."  
  
"But even a Dwarf such as myself cannot run straight away to Isengard without rest. I am grieved too, but I must sleep some to run strongly again. The shroud of night is the best time to do so." Gimli stated.  
  
"So then how should we solve this question?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"I say you choose," Gimli answered him. "You are the guide and skilled in chase."  
  
"My heart desires to move on, but we must not break apart. I will go with your decision." Legolas said.  
  
Boromir stepped in. "I, too will go with your decision Aragorn. Such times are where your skills are of more use than mine."  
  
"You leave it up to an unwise man, for since the Argonath my decisions have gone wrong." Aragorn admitted, falling silent as he looked around.  
  
"If you were unwise Aragorn we all would be dead," Boromir assured him. "You are wiser than you admit."  
  
"Even so," he said, smiling at his friend's comment. "We have not heard from the lady yet." He looked over at her. "Jacqueline?"  
  
"We rest," she answered, facing him. "Darkness brings nothing more than doubt and second-guessing, even to me."  
  
"But you know the fate of us, and what is happening with our friends," Boromir said. "Why must you doubt?"  
  
"Because there is the unfortunate difference of knowing the land and actually having travelled the land," she replied. "Both you and Aragorn know this land far better than I. It is not reading the clues that I have trouble with; it is finding them that would be my obstacle."  
  
"Then what exactly happened with the elven-brooch?" Gimli asked, voicing the question many of them had been wondering.  
  
She thought a moment, and Aragorn passed the leaf to her before sitting with the rest of them. They all watched as she sat deep in thought, the brooch intertwining through her fingers.  
  
"During the dispute with the orcs, Pippin was able to cut the bonds around his wrists, and he tied them loosely back on so no one would suspect. Not long after they received word of a rider who had spotted orc messengers who ran ahead, and his cords on his feet were cut. They made the hobbits walk at that point, and at one time he got a chance to run and he took it. He dropped the brooch to let anyone who came after him know he was alive."  
  
"That is quite good to hear," Boromir sighed in relief.  
  
"As it should be," Jacqueline added. "Both he and Merry are alive."  
  
"But why have I not found any sign of Merry?" Aragorn's frustration asked.  
  
"Merry suffered an injury and has not been as alert as Pippin. Until the rider both of the hobbits were being carried." she assured him.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Bless Lord Elrond for sending you with us, otherwise I might have been overcome by doubt."  
  
She smiled back. "You still would have made it through without me, Elessar. Your heart is much stronger than you know, but time will show all things, I promise."  
  
"You promise many things; how do we know you can keep them?" Boromir gently teased, much to everyone's amusement.  
  
"Because I have already kept one promise to myself," she answered in an impish tone.  
  
"And that promise is what?" Gimli asked, adding to the fun.  
  
Her face went sober. "That Boromir would not fall at Amon Hen."  
  
Silence overtook them; they had not expected something so serious. She continued to explain. "Boromir would have died defending Merry and Pippin, the rest of you would have been too overcome by Saruman's soldiers to save him."  
  
"Is that why you came with us rather than stay in Lothlorien and learn about your history?" Legolas questioned, breaking his long silence. She became puzzled.  
  
"Who said I was considering that?"  
  
"I heard Rumil and Orophin discussing something about it," Legolas admitted.  
  
"They probably shared Haldir's view of my departure then," she answered thoughtfully. "He could not see my use to accompanying you further."  
  
"And yet you proved to be quite useful," Aragorn commented, trying to lift the dull atmosphere.  
  
"He does not know what I know either," she added smiling. "And thankfully the Lord and Lady had some knowledge as well, else I might have ended up behind in Lothlorien."  
  
"I had been meaning to ask you about your relationship with them both," Boromir started.  
  
"I know, but night will not last much longer. I will explain everything on the morrow, when we have all had a good rest." she answered.  
  
Realizing that she was indeed right, for the moon was falling, they all stretched out on the grass. It had been days since their last opportunity to sleep, and each of the Five Hunters welcomed and valued it. Jacqueline was the first to nod off, and she did not see Legolas taking a place near her though she sensed him near, nor did she take notice of Boromir drapping his cloak over her though she felt its warmth. 


	14. Endless Plains

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 14  
  
The small hobbit swung his legs over the edge and twisted his body around, his feet searching for a foothold. He could find none; he was not low enough. Let yourself go down, Sam, just a little lower....  
  
Frodo ran to him and pulled the impatient hobbit back, totally in fear for his friend's life. She could see them talking but heard no sound. Once Sam was safely back, Frodo crawled to the edge and looked over. More silent conversation between the two; they must have been weighing the pros and cons of Frodo going over the side first. After a few moments it was settled and Frodo turned, swinging his body around and lowering himself slowly. He was leaner than Sam, and would certainly find a ledge.  
  
And find it he did, almost out of his reach but not quite. He said something to Sam, but he didn't get to finish his sentence; a sudden crash of thunder boomed overhead. Oddly enough, Jacqueline heard it loud and clear, and it nearly shook her from her perch. The ground trembled, the sky exploded, the wind howled and a heart-stopping shrill caused them all to shield their ears from the sound. As a result of the sudden impulse they all shared, Frodo lost his grip and fell down the slope. He landed on a shelf where no light reached, yet she could see him plainly. Sam couldn't, however, and he desperately called to Frodo though it was inaudible to her. More conversation began between the two, but Jacqueline wasn't paying attention to it; something in the sky caught her eye. Whatever it was was searching for something, and not even the downpouring rain and hail would stop him.  
  
Suddenly without warning the flying beast spun around in the air, its rider now facing her. It was a Nazgul Rider, flying a horrendous creation of Sauron – looking for her.  
  
She could see the face of the captain plain as day, the neither living nor dead eyes burning into hers. The evil thing flew towards her, its rider's gaze holding hers. She was frozen under it, unable to find strength to move. She could feel her mother's presence like a ghost beside her, trying to offer comfort but also shrinking at the sight of the Nazgul; her father's presence in her was gone.  
  
Overhead and all around her, Jacqueline heard an unnatural yet familiar voice call out to her:  
  
"I CAN SEE YOU PLAN. YOU WILL NOT DEFEAT ME!"  
  
Jacqueline woke up with a start, sweating and breathing heavily. But oh, how real it all seemed.....  
  
"Jacqueline?" a gentle voice asked. She turned to her left and after a few moments she realized who it was.  
  
"Boromir," she exclaimed quietly, thankful for a better voice. She looked around, seeing Aragorn waking up from where he lay and Legolas already up, staring northwards under a dawnless sky. Gimli was asleep somewhere nearby. She rubbed her eyes. "I saw them, in my dreams," she muttered.  
  
"Merry and Pippin?" Boromir asked hopefully. She shook her head.  
  
"No. Frodo and Sam. They were farther out on the Emyn Muil, heading east while we have been going west. Though I suspect it has been two or so days since they were where I saw them."  
  
"And our other two friends lay farther still," Legolas said sadly, turning to them. "I fear that they did not rest this night." His gaze met Jacqueline's, praying silently that he was wrong; she cast her eyes downward, comfirming his words and not his prayer. He looked back out. "Only an eagle could catch them now."  
  
"But we must try," Aragorn got up, and walked over to the sleeping Gimli. "Up Master Dwarf. We must go."  
  
"Dawn is not here yet," he groaned, reluctantly sitting up. "Neither Legolas nor Jacqueline could see anything from the highest hilltop until the sun came up."  
  
"I believe very much neither Jacqueline or I could see them now from any point in either day or night," Legolas admitted. Gimli looked over at the half-elven woman, seeking her answer. The look on her face told him that Legolas was right again.  
  
"But the earth may tell us what sight cannot," Aragorn said, sprawling out on the ground. "No doubt the ground aches under them."  
  
Aragorn stayed there, motionless, for a long time. Dawn crept up on them, and finally he stood up. His friends could see the distress on his face. "The messages in the ground are unclear, but nothing wanders near us; the Orcs we seek are far. But I heard the sound of hoofbeats."  
  
"I heard them too; they seeped into my dreams," Boromir interjected. "Many horses riding west. Until you mentioned it, I had not given it a second thought."  
  
"Well now they are heading northward," Aragorn agreed. "Something is out of place here."  
  
"No, actually everything is as it should be," Jacqueline said, getting up. "Our paths will cross with these riders soon."  
  
"Then shall we continue on our course, or change it?" Boromir asked her. She looked at Aragorn for the answer.  
  
"Continue," he replied.  
  
"The let us go!" Legolas motioned to them.  
  
They ran, being fueled by new strength through the cloudy day. Nothing, not even the light midday sun when it came through could spot them, for their elven cloaks concealed them well in their environment. Rarely did they speak to each other, focusing on the task at hand and putting all the nourishment they got from the lembas to their legs.  
  
The day came to its end as the Five Hunters came to low treeless hills where the orc-trail grew thin once again. To the west of them the Entwash flowed freely, but nothing else moved on the plain. Dusk fell, and the company rested again.  
  
"More now than ever do I deteste to stop," Legolas replied in a frustrated tone. "This chase has gone on as if Sauron himself drives the orcs we seek. They have probably reached the forest as we speak."  
  
"Such an end does that bring to the hope and toil that fueled us," Gimli groaned.  
  
"Not toil," Aragorn told the dwarf. "Perhaps hope but not toil. We do not end it here; however we must pause here for I am wayworn unlike I have ever been before." He looked out away from his friends, sorrow in his face. "A Ranger should not be tired, especially with a trail such as ours to go by."  
  
Boromir looked around. "Something is amiss in this land that is affecting us all. Something that benefits our enemies and is an obstacle to us. I feel that we cannot even trust the light of the moon."  
  
"That has been in my mind ever since our path took us off the slopes of the Emyn Muil. Ahead is where the determination lies." Legolas said, nodding his head towards Isengard. Aragorn followed the direction.  
  
"We will not let Saruman send us back," he commented. "We rest here tonight and continue at first light tomorrow."  
  
Jacqueline stood silently beside her male companions. Isengard put no fear in her; in fact, she would have gone straight there herself if the others had objected to the route. The farther she got from Mordor the safer she felt. The Dark Land caused an imbalance in her, and it got worse the closer to Mordor they got. By now she had discovered everything that was her mother: the heightened senses, the skills with a sword, the bravery, the willpower, the wisdom and self-assurance. She had never felt so sure of her choices and her thoughts, and it felt good to finally have it. Combined with what she already knew about the story she felt as though nothing could stop her.  
  
When they began getting closer to Mordor, another power source started appearing, heightening her elvish traits. But at the same time they drained her, threatening with some alien evil to destroy the person she was. It came out of nowhere, and with being on the run after her friends she had no time to figure it out.  
  
"Jacqueline," a voice said behind her. She turned her head and turned around. They were all stretched out on the ground except for Gimli, who obviously had something on his mind. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat. "Will you tell us about the Lord and Lady?"  
  
She smiled. "Of course. I did say I would."  
  
She walked over to them, seating herself before beginning. "When we rested in Lothlorien, after the rest of you fell asleep, the Lord Celeborn summoned me. We spoke, privately of course, and he told me what I really was; the daughter of Celebrian and a wizard. I was the last of her children."  
  
"Arwen made no mention of that," Aragorn interrupted, puzzled.  
  
"Because Arwen had no idea," she answered. "No one did except my mother and father. It happened during the timespan when Celebrian had been captured by orcs. What happened during that time only she knows, including who my father is. Celeborn does not know who he is."  
  
"Does Galadriel know?" Boromir asked.  
  
"That is hard to say. My guess would be yes, but I doubt very much she would have told me," she smiled amusedly, staring at the ground. "Most likely she would tell me that there are some things that cannot be revealed when we want them to. Most likely it would have defeated my presence slightly."  
  
He was still puzzled. "Why is that?"  
  
"Because I would have gone with Frodo and Sam to destroy the Ring. Celeborn told me that merely throwing the Ring back into Mount Doom was not enough; its evil would still thrive. Somehow I have to destroy it, or so I have been told." She answered.  
  
"How?" Gimli asked uneasily. Her face went sober again.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Aragorn sat up from where he lay. "However I can help or how far you must go without us, I will go as far as I am able to. You have my word."  
  
"And mine," Boromir offered. "I will follow your path where ever it may lead."  
  
"You will go nowhere without me," Legolas confirmed. Gimli joined him.  
  
"Or me. Nothing can stop this dwarf from going where he must."  
  
She looked at them gratefully. "Thank you. Though you walk blindly into my journey, I thank you for your company."  
  
Legolas gazed skywards. "The moon is sinking; we should sleep while we can."  
  
They all agreed, and settled back on the ground. All except two.  
  
He shuffled over to her. "Do you fear what lays ahead of us?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. I know how to deal with what is ahead. It is what lies behind us that I fear."  
  
"Then what exactly lies ahead?" he asked.  
  
"Things both good and bad," she replied. "Aid, reunion, war, death - everything we have anticipated."  
  
"Well that is both settling and unsettling in the same instant," he sighed. "Can you tell me any of it?"  
  
"No," she answered firmly but regretfully. "Everything has its time and place whether it is understood or not. Things will reveal themselves in due time."  
  
He laughed mournfully. "You speak like Gandalf."  
  
"I suppose I do," she agreed, copying his smile and laugh. "But for now you must all trust me when I tell you that most things must happen, even though I know the outcome and could shorten our journey. It is not very often that I will be allowed to intervene with the story, despite how much I desire to. I feel that I will pay somewhat for Amon Hen."  
  
"I do trust you, and you will not pay for that," he assured her. He pushed a stray hair behind her ear, then pulled her to him and kissed her. He was gentle and brief, not sure how she would react. She gazed into his eyes, unsure of what to do next. He smiled reassuringly at her and indicated her to lie down near him. She did so as he unclasped his cloak.  
  
"Now it is your turn to trust me," he replied as he draped his cloak over her form for added warmth. She smiled up at him, then shut her eyes and quickly fell into sleep. He kissed her cheek, then stretched out beside her, holding her hand to assure her that no evil dreams would trouble her. 


	15. Riders

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: Damn, you guys are really getting to me. Some of you want Legolas romance, and some want Boromir romance, and in all honesty it's harder to make up my mind!!! I'm still unclear as to who she should go with, so I'm proposing this: how about I do two different endings, one as a Legolas romance and one as a Boromir romance? Would that settle everything(plz say yes!)? BTW, you find out who kissed Jacqueline here. Be WARNED: THE KISS SCENE IS NOT A PREMONITION AS TO WHO SHE'LL END UP WITH!  
  
Chapter 15 - Riders  
  
Jacqueline woke up from a dreamless sleep. Legolas was rousing up Gimli and Aragorn; Boromir was already up. The morning was red, foreboding of strange things ahead. She thought back to last night and the last words he had said to her: "Now it is your turn to trust me." She wondered its meaning. It probably would have been easier to decipher had he not kissed her before that. It was hard enough trying to figure out what she was and where her roots lay, nevermind this.  
  
On one hand she cared for Legolas, the ethereal one she had trusted and confided in when her darkest memories proved to be too much, and the first one to approach her when she had gone from a lost mortal woman to a half- elven warrior seeking to find herself while on a perlious journey. He had been there watching her every move, catching her when she fell and always being the first(and until the Amon Hen the only) one to watch out for her. Besides aiding in the destruction of the One Ring, he had also made it subtly clear that he was also there for her.  
  
On the other hand she cared for Boromir, the brave mortal warrior she couldn't leave to Fate. Since Amon Hen he began letting his pride go, revealing a compassion towards her and authentic love and concern for his friends. He had been the one who supported her after she was struck by the arrow, and had been the last to leave her when they had heard the splashing on the beach. She looked down at her right arm; the cloth he had ripped from his own clothing was still there. It reminded her how he would keep up with her the best he could, because when she got any sort of sleep or nourishment only Legolas could easily keep up with her.  
  
They were off as soon as everyone was awakened, and reached the green downs close to noon, with its ridges lined up towards the north. The ground was dry, but it led into reeds and rushes about ten miles in width, standing between them and the nearest river. West there lay a ring scarred into the ground from violent feet, and a north trail leading from it. Aragorn looked it over with a heavy heart.  
  
"They did rest, but Legolas spoke true; this trail is old," he said examining it. Boromir came up behind him.  
  
"How far is it from here to Fangorn?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn thought a moment. "Eight leagues, maybe more. What are you guessing?"  
  
"I am guessing that if they kept to their speed, most likely they have reached its borders," he answered.  
  
"Then let us continue," Gimli stepped in. "I must forget the distances."  
  
They moved on again, slowing as the day drew to its close. Weariness and loss of hope showed on them except for the elf and the half-elf, who were able to benefit most fromthe elvish waybread. Legolas could rest his mind while travelling as was the way of his people, and Jacqueline found that she could effortlessly shrug off the need for sleep when she had to.  
  
Legolas urged them up a bare hill, and all but Jacqueline gazed on mournfully. The forest was still a good day or two away, and they were alone in the land.  
  
"There is nothing we can see that will help us; we must stop yet again." Gimli stated shivering.  
  
"Then rest of you must, but do not lose hope. Tomorrow is a new day." replied Legolas.  
  
"Three days have come and gone, yet have brought us nothing new to use," Gimli snorted.  
  
"The fourth will," Jacqueline answered drowsily from the ground.  
  
The rest of them joined her. Gimli and Aragorn slept uneasily in the cold night, Boromir not so much as his two friends. Jacqueline slept without stirring while it did not appear that Legolas slept at all, for whenever anyone(except Jacqueline) woke in the middle of the night they either saw him pacing about or standing sentinal. Soon dawn set on them, and they all watched the sun come up. The land was bleak and bare; eastward lay the Wold of Rohan, and northwest lay Fangorn where the Entwash came out to greet them. The orc-trail ran alongside it. Something else caught Aragorn's eye, and he dropped back to the ground to listen. Both Jacqueline and Legolas, however, could see what it was and Jacqueline could also see who exactly it was.  
  
Many horsemen they saw, riding with the wind. Dark curling smoke rose into the sky far behind them.  
  
"Riders are coming towards us, with great speed!" Aragorn exclaimed leaping up.  
  
"One hundred and five riders," Legolas said, improving on his statement. "Golden hair, bright spears, their leader is tall."  
  
"Elven eyes are sharp indeed," Aragorn smiled.  
  
"They are only five leagues away," Legolas replied.  
  
"Regardless there is nowhere to hide," Gimli said. "Do we go on or wait?"  
  
"Wait," Aragorn answered. "They head back up the orc-trail; we may learn something."  
  
"There are three spare horses but no hobbits," Legolas pointed out.  
  
"I didn't say it would be good news that they would bring," Aragorn countered. "Regardless we will hear it."  
  
They walked down the hill slowly, stopping at the foot and huddling together against the cold.  
  
"Boromir? Aragorn?" Gimli asked unnervedly. "What do you know of the approaching company?"  
  
"I've been with them before, very willing and proud men," Aragorn answered.  
  
"And they are also true-hearted, generous and bold, wise though being unlearned," Boromir added. "Singing songs about what they know rather than writing about them."  
  
"But where they now stand in these dark times is uncertain, whether they are aware of Saruman's traitorous ways and what mindframe they may be in about Sauron's threat. They have been close but not kin to Gondor, for their kinship lies with the tall and fair men of the Beornings of the Wood and the Bardings of Dale." Aragorn explained.  
  
"What about the rumour Gandalf spoke of, that they served Mordor?" Gimli questioned.  
  
"Lies," Boromir said flatly. "Nothing more than that."  
  
"We shall soon learn either way," Legolas remarked. "They come now."  
  
They came in pairs following the trail. Proud grey horses they rode, their manes braided and tails flying wildly in the wind. The riders also were proud like their steeds, their golden hair braided as well. Their mailshirts shone in the morning sun, their ash grey spears ready in their hands, shields strapped to their backs, swords slung on their hips. Every now and again one of them would look around the group but did not see the five huddled at the bottom of the hill. Just as the Riders had nearly gone, Aragorn spoke up.  
  
"Riders of Rohan, what news do you bring?"  
  
Without word or command they turned, and within seconds encircled the companions with spears and bows, which none of them had spotted before, aimed and ready. None of the companions flinched, not even when the tallest rode forward, stopping only when his spear came inches to Aragorn's heart.  
  
"Who are you and what business brings you here?" he asked.  
  
"My name is Strider," Aragorn replied. "We have come out of the North hunting Orcs."  
  
The man got off his horse, tossing his spear to another rider and drawing his sword. He walked to Aragorn and stood face to face with him, assessing him.  
  
"At first I deemed you to be orcs, but clearly you are not," the man said. "However you know little of the foul creatures if you hunt them in such a manner. They would quickly overtake you when you found them. Yet your name is a strange one even for a man, and even stranger is how you travel. Are you all elvish folk, or of some other magic that enabled you to be shielded from our eyesight?"  
  
"Only two of us are elves," Aragorn answered. "Legolas, from the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood and Jacqueline, a half-elven child of Lothlorien from where we have just come from. The Lady's blessing goes with us."  
  
"So there is a Lady in the Golden Wood after all," the Rider exclaimed with hard eyes. "Few escape her, and you must be mages of sorts if you not only have passed through her realm but go with her favours," he looked over at Jacqueline. "Or else just seduced the half-bred daughter of the Lady who could only be the product of a helpless victim."  
  
Fire blazed in her eyes, but Jacqueline kept her calm and slowly got up, walking over to where Aragorn and the Rider stood. She held the Rider's gaze as she spoke.  
  
"You would be wise to hold your tongue, Third Marshall of the Riddermark, when you are confronted by matters which you have no knowledge of. One tends to look the part of a fool when they speak based on assumptions."  
  
"You dare call me a fool, Lady?" the Rider hissed, moving his blade to her throat.  
  
She smiled, impishly. "No, for I know you are anything but a fool. But if you were to retain that type of conversation you could easily become one." The other riders stirred in anger, but she did not take notice. "My mother is not the Lady Galadriel as you so inaccurately guessed, but rather her daughter Celebrian, her only daughter; my father was an istari though not Gandalf or Saruman as you are probably guessing. Whether that means my father's powers flow in me is still unclear, but regardless I am not you enemy nor will I be treated as one; me or my companions."  
  
The Rider drew back, his sword moving down slowly from her throat. He and the rest of his company were astounded by the wisdom and authority in her voice. The strangers certainly were telling truth, for no kindred except elvish kindred spoke with such mannerism. Boromir and Gimli, who were still seated, were in shock of Jacqueline's boldness; they still could not wrap their minds around the fact that she was of Middle-earth, though she came(and believed until Lothlorien that she descended) from another time. Legolas and Aragorn looked on with pride and relief, knowing that she was finally beginning to piece herself together and find her place here.  
  
However the astoundment didn't last long, and soon the Rider's nature had returned. He sought to win the game she was playing with him.  
  
"Tell me, do your other friends allow you to speak for them as well?"  
  
The comment rolled off Jacqueline, but brought her dwarf friend quickly to anger. Gimli stood up to join her. "Only when necessary. But you have eliminated that necessity, and forced me to speak up. Merely let me hear your name Third Marshall, and you shall hear mine."  
  
The Rider looked down at him with slight disproval. "Very well dwarf. I am Eomer son of Eomund."  
  
"Well then, Eomer son of Eomund, I Gimli son of the Dwarf Gloin should warn you against speaking evilly to and about my companions who you do not know."  
  
His words angered the horsemen and they closed the circle even more.  
  
"I could cut your bearded head off if it were not so low to the ground," Eomer said, throwing an age-old insult at the dwarf.  
  
"Neither he or my other companions stand alone, and what the dwarf lacks in height I make up," Legolas warned, arrow fitted to his bowstring. "You would fall before your sword did."  
  
This pushed Eomer's anger further, and was about to test Legolas' words when Aragorn and Jacqueline came between the two.  
  
"Pardon, Eomer. First hear our tales so that you may understand why my companions greet you with anger," Aragorn said. "We mean no harm to you or your people."  
  
"What need have I for tales when this lady has insulted me in my own land and this elf threatens my life?" Eomer demanded, staring into Aragorn's neutral eyes.  
  
"Because I have insulted no one, nor have I played any games with you Eomer," Jacqueline answered. "I know much about your people and your desire for knowledge and tales, and I know things that are coming your way in the days ahead. Correcting you on my history was merely my way of getting acquainted, since I was already quite familiar with you. I can assure you that things will become all the more clear when our tale is heard."  
  
Eomer gazed at her a moment, taken by this wave of council that came from her. He sighed, deciding after a few moments to take their advice.  
  
"Very well," Eomer agreed, lowering his sword completely. "But you and your companions would benefit to know that such behaviours in wanderers who come through the Riddermark is not lightly looked upon in these times. Tell me your right name, Strider."  
  
"Tell me who you serve," Aragorn countered.  
  
Eomer slightly hesitated. "I serve only King Theoden, Lord of the Mark and son of Thengel. We do not serve Sauron nor are we at war with him, so you had best leave if he chases you. There is trouble all around us threatening our way of life when all we desire is to remain free. Once we welcomed guests, but in such times we are wary of all who pass through. Now tell me, who do you serve Strider?"  
  
"No one," Aragorn answered. "But I follow those who obey Sauron to whatever lands they go to. Hunting Orcs on foot was not my choice; but where one has no horse one goes on foot. Two of my friends were taken by these Orcs and I will not leave the trail which we follow, nor will I count their numbers with anything save my sword." Back went his cloak, revealing the glittering sheath that held Anduril. "My name is Aragorn son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone, heir of Elendil's son Isildur of Gondor, Dunadan. This Sword was Broken and is now reforged so I may use it in my times of need. Will you help or hinder me?"  
  
Boromir and Gimli continued to stand by in awe; neither had anticipated Jacqueline and Aragorn to become what they were now. Aragorn was beginning to accept his fate and duty as future king, and Jacqueline was much like her grandmother; one who harboured great power and knowledge, yet great wisdom and humility. Even Legolas, who had been held back by Jacqueline when he challenged Eomer, was shocked by their actions. The previous night revealed Aragorn to be beaten down yet hopeful, and Jacqueline was in slight fear that the whole story may change as she intervened to the point where she could prove powerless. He had hoped that his words and kiss would settle her, and from her present state it must have helped somewhat. He looked around at the riders and Eomer, who had stepped back as if repelled.  
  
"Certainly these are strange times when images of the mind and tales of legend come alive up out of the grass. But tell me what news follows you here. Many long days have passed since Boromir of Gondor borrowed a horse from us and the steed came back without him. What tragic tales do you carry with you?"  
  
"That destruction comes," Boromir answered, standing up and into the conversation. Even after so many things had been revealed, Eomer still managed to be surprised.  
  
"So you are alive," he marvelled. "When your horse came back we feared you dead. Your father has been distressed ever since."  
  
"I would have been dead, had it not been for the wisdom and care of a friend," Boromir replied, glancing over at Jacqueline. Her eyes smiled back at him. "Though that is all the good news we bear. When you go back to Thengel's son Theoden, tell him that war comes be it with or against Sauron. Few will be able tp keep what is theirs, and many ways of life shall be changed as a result. Let us speak of such things later, and if it be permissible we will go to the King himself with our tidings. But right now we are in need of help or news. What do you know of the Orcs we chase?"  
  
"That you may end your chase friends," replied Eomer. "The Orcs are dead." 


	16. Sharing Stories

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: man my disclaimer's getting monotonous. FINALLY Chapter 16 is here...hope you like it. Sorry for any spelling errors; I type these things up at like 1:00am. A little forewarnings: Arwen, Elledan, Elrohir and Haldir will be at Helm's Deep(in the movie Arwen and Haldir fight at Helm's deep; I just felt like throwing the twins in), and expect fueding between Eowyn and Jacqueline. Also someone who's usually in the story the whole way through isn't going to make it to the end.  
  
Chapter 16 - Sharing Stories  
  
"And what of our friends that we spoke of earlier?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"There were only orcs," Eomer assured.  
  
"That is puzzling indeed. Did you search among the dead? Were there any bodies other than orcs? Our friends would be child-size to your eyes, shoeless and clad in grey." Aragorn described.  
  
"There were none who were child-size or dwarf-size," assured Eomer again. "We counted them, piled them up and burned them according to our ways. The ashes are still smoking."  
  
"We speak neither of children or dwarves, but hobbits," Gimli replied.  
  
"Hobbits? That is a strange name I have not heard in all my years. What might such creatures be?" Eomer asked.  
  
"A strange folk who are very close to us," the dwarf answered. "I am certain you have heard the words that made Minas Tirith uneasy. They spoke of a Halfling; our hobbit friends are Halflings."  
  
"Halflings!" laughed one of the Riders, the one who had jumped down off his horse and stood beside Eomer. "Halflings are just small folk in the old songs and children's tales from the North. Are we walking in legends or on the green earth of the day?"  
  
"One may do both good sir," Jacqueline responded. "For it is not any of us but those who will come after who will make the legends. The green earth is a mighty legend within itself, and you walk on it in the daylight."  
  
The Rider ignored her. "We must go back to the south, my lord. Time is not with us. Let us leave these strangers to their apprehensions or take them tied up to the king."  
  
"Eothain! Peace!" Eomer ordered sternly in his native tongue. "Leave me awhile. Order the eored to assemble on the path and be prepared to ride out to the Entwade."  
  
Glaring at them before going off mumbling, Eothain spoke to the others and soon they all rode off. Eomer was left with the five companions.  
  
"You speak strange things, but they are certainly truth; we the Men of the Mark do not lie and we are incredibly difficult to deceive. But you have not spoken fully of what drives you. Will you now tell me fully of your mission so that I may decide what to do with you?"  
  
Boromir sighed before beginning. "I set out from Rivendell, or Imladris as it is known in the common rhyme, many weeks ago with Aragorn. We were originally off to my city to aid my people in our war against the Dark Lord, but the company we travelled with had other business that I must not speak of right now. Our leader was Gandalf the Grey."  
  
"Gandalf?!" Eomer exclaimed. "He is well known in the Mark as a bringer of strange things, evil things some say. He comes sometimes after many years or many seasons, and his name is no longer a way to the king's favours. Since his last visit this past summer things have gone amiss, and our trouble with Saruman began. A long time did we count Saruman a friend until Gandalf came to us bearing news of a war prepared in Isengard. He said that he had been imprisioned upon Orthanc and barely escaped. He begged for help but the king refused and turned him away, and in leaving Gandalf took Shadowfax, most preciousof all the king's horses. Shadowfax is chief of the Mearas that only the king of the Mark rides, and the sire was the great of Eorl who understood Men's speech. He returned seven days past, but the king's anger is still great; Shadowfax is wild and no man can tame him."  
  
Boromir nodded thoughtfully. "Shadowfax found his way from the North after all; it is where he and Gandalf parted. But Gandalf will ride no longer, for in the Mines of Moria he fell into darkness."  
  
"That is heavy tidings," Eomer admitted, bowing his head. "Both to me and many, though not all which you will notice should you see the king."  
  
"But the less must lead where the great fall," Aragorn stated, stepping into the conversation. "I led our company from Moria to Lorien and then down the Great River to the falls of Rauros where our friends were taken."  
  
"And the story changed," Jacqueline interjected. They all turned to her, the Company knowing what her words were going to be and Eomer in puzzlement. "Without my presence Boromir would have been slain by orcs though having fought bravely enough. Our Company would not be as you see us, but a Man, an Elf and a Dwarf still on the same goal."  
  
His puzzled look did not lift. "Where would you be, my lady?"  
  
"Not in Middle Earth," she answered. "But I will not get into my tale now; it requires too much time that we do not have. Though I will admit that, because of living in another world I have knowledge of everything that has bee and everything that will be, and I can assure you that nothing and no one will ever be the same once this is over. It will only get worse from here. Even my own interventions, though they be few, will prove to bring about things which not even I may see. One man's life has already been picked in exchange for Boromir's, though I know not who."  
  
Eomer shook his head in amazement. "You bear a heavy heart lady, and yet you go on with strength and hope. How does one go forth with such spirit when she is so full of woe?"  
  
She tried a smile. "The same way the Lady Galadriel does; keeping in my heart of hearts that things will be different despite the odds, that those who are appointed to save everyone's future will succeed and to keep in mind that I shall have the answers when I need them. With happiness comes sorrow; it is the price we pay."  
  
"You speak in circles and riddles, but since you have mentioned sorrow how long has it been since your friends were taken?" Eomer asked.  
  
Aragorn thought a brief moment. "Four days. Since the evening of the first day we have been crossing the land from Tol Brandir."  
  
"All that way on foot?!" Eomer exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, just as you see us." Aragorn confirmed. Eomer shook his head again, this time in amazement.  
  
"Valiant indeed is the race of Elendil! Strider is not near a worthy name for the son of Arathorn; Wingfoot you shall be known as. This tale of the five companions should be sung in man halls of Men. Forty leagues and five you have covered at the end of your fourth day! But now friends what shall I do, for I must back to Theoden. It is true that my land is not directly at war with Sauron, and there are those who feed evil into the king's ear, but as you said war does come. Never will we forsake our alliance with Gondor and we shall aid them in their battle; this say I and all who are with me. From the East-Mark, my charge, I have had all herds and herdspeople moved far from Entwash, leaving only scouts and guards."  
  
"So you do not honour Sauron in any way?" Gimli asked for his own confirmation.  
  
"No, and we never shall," Eomer answered sternly, holding back fury. "Though I have been told that such a rumour wanders the countryside. Years ago Sauron desired to purchase horses at a high price, but he was refused. Then he sent orcs upon us and they took what they could, always picking our black steeds. Few are left now, and one could only guess what evil uses he has for them. But our worry is with Saruman now, for he has taken evil me, orcs and wolf-riders as his army and started war with us for many months. He closed the Gap against us. He is a terrible foe both cunning and crafty, wandering as an old man cloaked and hooded some say, and his spies are as slippery as he is. I know not how this shall end, for not all his friends dwell in Isengard, which you will see if you go to King Theoden. I pray you, come with me. Is my hope that you have come to aid us from our doubt all vain?"  
  
"I shall only come when I can," Aragorn answered simply.  
  
Eomer looked disappointed. "Elendil's heir would be a mighty strength to the Sons of Eorl. Battle lives upon the Westermnet, and I fear the worst for us. This riding I took was without the leave of theking, for now his house is ill-guarded. My scouts informed me of the orcs and that some bore Saruman's White Hand. Suspecting an alliance between the Dark Land and Isengard I led my eored and overtook the orcs two nights ago near the Entwood borders, giving war at dawn yesterday. There were more than we had thought, and fifteen of my men and twelve of our horses were slain. The White Hands were the most fell, but we put an end to all of them. However we have been away for much too long. Are you sure you will not come with me? We have the spare horses as you know, and we could find use to the swords of Aragorn and Boromir, the axe of Gimli, the bow of Legolas and even the wisdom and sword of Lady Jacqueline so long that she will forgive me my harsh words against her grandmother the Lady of the Wood; I would gladly learn the better from you all."  
  
"My heart desires to follow with you, for I long to be in the company of the King, and we are all thankful for the kindness of your words," Boromir began formally, looking around at his companions while speaking his last words. "But we are not about to desert our friends while hope lives."  
  
"Hope is dead, friend," Eomer replied gravely. "Your friends are not on the North-Boarders."  
  
Jacqueline stood to correct him again. "Hope lives, Eomer. We have followed to this point with faint signs here and there. Aragorn's skill has carried us successfully, and he knew that I was here to reassure him. Forgive me but we cannot turn from this."  
  
"You know what has become of your friends?" Eomer asked, slightly bewildered. Jacqueline nodded.  
  
"Yes, but I cannot allow the search to be altered by my knowledge. I fear the consequences."  
  
Eomer paused a moment, then tried a soft smile. "Well lady, I can swear that no orc escaped us, and that orc bodies were all that we burned. Nothing escaped our ring unless it was elvish."  
  
"Our friends were clothed like us, and until Aragorn spoke you did not see us," Boromir reminded him, pangs of jealousy pricking like needles.  
  
"That is true; I had forgotten," Eomer said. "Many things are difficult to tell: Elf and Dwarf in peacful company, those who speak with the Lady of the Wood and call her family, and the Sword broken before my father's fathers came to the Mark, coming back to battle. How must I judge?"  
  
"The same way you have always judged," Aragorn answered. "Nothing has changed since the last year, and things among Elves and Dwarves are no different to Men. It is one's duty to distinguish them, whether it be in his own house or in the Golden Wood."  
  
"True enough. But I am not free to do as I please," Eomer warned him and the others. "It is against the laws of our home to allow wanderers unless the king has given them leave, but stricter has that law become. I pleaded with you to come with me and you refuse. I wish not for a battle of one hundred and five to five."  
  
"I believe your laws were not meant for such a thing, nor am I a stranger to this land. I rode with the Rohirrim host before under a different name, and I had once spoken with your father Eomund, though I have not seen you for you are young. I have also spoken with Theoden, and no Lord of this land in better days would have stopped me from a duty such as ours; we will go on." Aragorn said firmly. "Eomer, the choice must be made; aid us, allow us to go free or act upon your law. Should you choose the last, fewer will return to your king."  
  
Eomer sighed heavily. "We both desire to make haste to our business; my men desire to go south, and every hour we stand here lessens hope. My decision is to allow you leave, and lend you horses. All I ask is this: when your quest is proved fruitful orin van take the horses over the Entwade to Meduseld, where the king now sits. I put myself and my life on the goodness of your honour, and you shall prove that I have not misjudged. Do not fail."  
  
"We shall not." Aragorn confirmed. 


	17. The Old Man and Jacqueline's Father

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: Okay this is where I start getting back into the movie, sort of. You'll see as the story goes on. And for all of you asking about the whole thing about some main character dying in place of Boromir, I'll only say that it's NOT Legolas; never was and never will be. Couldn't pull that one off if I tried. I have exams coming up, so don't expect Chapter 18 until after next week when they're done. I'll try but no guarantees.  
  
Chapter 17 - The Old Man and Jacqueline's Father  
  
The Riders gave the Five Hunters dark looks as Eomer ordered the three horses to be lent to them. Eothain was the only one bold enough to speak.  
  
"Our horses are well suited for this self-proclaimed lord of Gondor, but surely not a Dwarf?"  
  
"Trouble not, for no one shall hear of this. I would sooner walk than ride such great beasts," Gimli assured him.  
  
"But you will slow us if you do not ride," Aragorn reasoned.  
  
"Come, Gimli, you shall ride with me," Legolas said, ending the dispute. "Then you will not have to borrow one of your own."  
  
An ash-black was given to Aragorn; Hasufel was his name, Eomer told him. Aragorn mounted the gentle beast and sat tall in the saddle. A lighter and more spirited horse was brought over to Legolas and Gimli, whose name was Arod. Legolas jumped easily into the saddle, and Gimli was lifted up to sit behind him. Although with a small wild streak Arod was tame with Legolas, moving with but a spoken word; such was the elvish way that it was like Legolas needed no saddle or rein save for Gimli's comfort. The third horse was a cream horse named Orlfen, who was given to Boromir. Lively but calm, the horse quickly became as noble as his rider. Jacqueline was about to climb up after him when another of the Riders stopped her.  
  
"My lady," he began shakily. "I would be honoured if you would take my horse."  
  
She looked at the Rider, then at his horse. The steed was as great and white as Shadowfax, though the mane and tail was as black as the night sky. Jacqueline stroked the muzzle and turned to the Rider.  
  
"You would lend me such a steed?"  
  
"Give, my lady," the Rider corrected her.  
  
"Why would you give me such a beautiful and noble horse?" she asked astoundedly. The Rider looked around before answering.  
  
"A few years back, while I was scouting quite near the Golden Wood, I came across a band of orcs. They chased me to the boarders of the Wood and I was shot with many an arrow, but it was the gracious Lady of the Wood who saved me. I swore to help her and her kin in whatever ways I could without betraying my own people. Consider this part of my debt to your grandmother."  
  
The horse nudged her gently. "What did you name the horse?"  
  
"Al(a)tariel," the Rider answered. "The Telerin form of Galadriel. My horse was always known as one of the most beautiful of the Mearas, so after I left the Wood I felt the name was fitting. The Lady gave me her blessing."  
  
Jacqueline took the reins from him and mounted, taller than her companions since her horse was taller. She looked back at the Rider as her companions rode up to her. "Tell me your name."  
  
"Thimen," he answered, bowing.  
  
"Thimen, I thank you for your kindness. May the stars shine brightly upon you," she replied, bowing her head in response.  
  
"Farewell good friends," Eomer said to the companions. "And may whatever hope follow you as you search for your friends. Come back to us with great speed, and our swords may shine together yet."  
  
"You have my word I will," assured Aragorn.  
  
"As will I," Gimli chimed in. "I have yet to teach you good speech of the Lady Galadriel."  
  
"We shall see my good Dwarf," Eomer acknowledged. "Goodbye!"  
  
And so they parted. The Rohan horses were very swift, and soon Eomer's company were specks in the distance. Everyone kept their sight ahead; Aragorn kept an eye on the trail though Jacqueline led them. Al(a)tariel was the swiftest, with Hasufel nearly in stride and Arod and Orlfen close behind. Soon they came up to the Entwash where Aragorn halted them to examine the area.  
  
"The trail is unclear with the hoofprints of the Rohirrim, but nothing goes to the Anduin," Aragorn said after a few moments. "We will ride slow to ensure that nothing goes left or right of the trail. Clearly the orcs were aware of them and tried to escape with our friends."  
  
They continued on, riding all day. The companions passed many orcs with grey-feathered arrows on either side as Fangorn grew closer. By late afternoon's arrival they came to the eaves of the forest where the orc-pile burned in an open glade. Weapons and discarded armour piled up beside the ashes, and a goblin-head on a spike looked over the scene. Down by the river was a freshly-raised mound with fifteen spears planted on top of it. Everyone immediately jumped off their horses and searched the area except Jacqueline who knew they would find nothing. She led all their horses to an old tree and tied them near it as the other four came to her.  
  
"No more can be done in the darkness; this is by far the hardest riddle we face," Gimli complained. "Jacqueline, what is the answer?"  
  
"They are in the wood," she answered settling near the tree. Gimli sighed.  
  
"It will be hard on Frodo and Bilbo if they are not found. Let us go and search for them."  
  
"No," Jacqueline said abruptly. "Rest. We will find them in due time."  
  
"We shouldn't have let them come," Gimli replied, settling down. "Elrond was initially against their coming."  
  
"Until he entrusted their well-being to me," Jacqueline said, lying down. "He hoped it would be enough to help send me home after the Ring's destruction."  
  
"And will you?" Aragorn asked, leaning against the tree.  
  
She shook her head sleepily. "I belong here not there."  
  
Quickly she began falling asleep. Legolas removed his cloak and folded it up, placing it under her head as a pillow. Once he settled near Aragorn, Boromir drapped his cloak over her as a blanket. Brief glances were shared between the two as Gimli became restless.  
  
"We need a fire," he stated. "Let foul creatures come; at least we shall be warm."  
  
"Yes, it also may draw the hobbits to us," Legolas agreed.  
  
"And other things as well," Boromir argued. "Cutting wood from Fangorn is dangerous, and we can do without a fire."  
  
"But the Rohirrim cut wood and safely left," the Dwarf pointed out.  
  
"They do not heed Fangorn's anger, and did not go into Fangorn. Most likely we will go through it so be cautious and cut no living wood."  
  
Gimli got up. "There is no need. The Riders left enough dead wood."  
  
He went about gathering wood as Jacqueline fell into a deep sleep. She saw Frodo and Sam still out on the Emyn Muil, trekking heavily along. They were so tired and such a mess. She should have gone with them; heaven knows she would have been more useful there. But she was also afraid that if she had gone witht hem she may not have discovered who her father is. So for now it had to be like this. Gollum followed them like a shadow, and went mostly unnoticed until Frodo spotted him. A dispute eruptted, and Frodo coiled the elvish rope Sam had brought around Gollum's ankle and held Sting at him. Poor Gollum coward beneath the blade and begged for the rope to be taken off. His soul was so blackened and corrupt by this worthless piece of gold and desired it so much, and yet he hated it as much as everyone else did. So many years alone in the mountain with no friends; she knew how he felt. They were so alike. Frodo's bravery was like her also; based and fueled by fear. There was more fear in him then all five of the hunters combined. The burden grew day by day, the Ring enlarging its temptation and evil life. She sent whatever reassuring thoughts she could, hoping to mend his soul. Bless Sam for his loyalty, otherwise it was doubtful Frodo would have made it. Sam may not have been the brightest or that confident in himself, but his unconditional love to Frodo was the greatest strength of all. He was the beakon that helped Frodo through the haze of evil in Mordor, and if he could, he would have marched right up Mount Doom and hurled the Ring in; anything to help his master and friend.  
  
Then the scene faded, and her mother appeared in a dark room. Another figure was with her, a tall dark figure oozing with malicious vibes. Her mother was deathly afraid of the figure, shrinking into a corner trying to get away from him. There was a long whip in his hand, and he didn't hesitate to use it on the Elf. Lash after lash rose and fell, rose and fell, taking pleasure in her screams. Blood flowed like rivers down her body, exactly like when her father murdered her mother when se was six. The Elf crawled away, but the whips followed and did not stop. After what seemed like an eternity, the vile figure stopped, and spun around. Her mother saw her, or seemed to, and called her a name she had never heard, begging for help. The figure walked forward, a black shadow hand reaching out for her.....  
  
Jacqueline woke up with a cry, sweating. She know who her father was now, and knew where her mother was being tortured in her dream. She began to get up; she had to go to her mother.  
  
"Jacqueline!" Boromir said, grabbing her arm. "Jacqueline what is it?"  
  
She looked at him. "I have to go to my mother."  
  
She struggled in his grasp, and he found he had a hard time holding her. "You were dreaming, Jacqueline. Calm yourself."  
  
"Let me go, Boromir," she warned.  
  
"No."  
  
Without warning she brought her free arm around in her fit of madness and struck Boromir, knocking him away. Legolas was shaken out of sleep and immediately moved over to them, holding Jacqueline's elbows behind her. He pulled her right back to him and whispered in elvish trying to calm her. She continued struggling, but Legolas was stronger than Boromir and his arms were like an iron bar. Boromir got back up as Aragorn and Gimli roused out of sleep and grabbed Jacqueline's shoulders.  
  
"Let me go! I have to go to my mother!" she said angrily.  
  
"Your mother is dead Jacqueline!" Boromir cried exasperated. She stopped suddenly and just looked at him, the madness leaving her.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Boromir, looking suddenly compassionate, pulled her away from Legolas into his embrace. He rubbed her back slowly, and after a few moments she pulled away. She reassured them that she was okay and that the dream was just a little bit stronger than her last one. Reluctantly they allowed her the next watch and Jacqueline sat up as her companions fell back to sleep. The realization of her father's identity sank in, and was like a leech in her thoughts. The night wore on, and a grey-cloaked man with a hat walked up near the camp. She knew who it was and walked up to him.  
  
"Well met old friend," she said bowing.  
  
"Well met, strange visitor," he replied bowing. They shared a laugh and ended up waking the others. Jacqueline turned and the man vanished before her companions' eyes. The horses ran off suddenly, and Jacqueline ran after them as far as the boarders of the forest.  
  
"It was Saruman I am sure of it," Gimli stated. "His shadow wandered here and chased the horses away."  
  
"Not long ago you despised getting on such beasts," Legolas tried, chuckling to lift the atmosphere.  
  
"Regardless, they are gone," Aragorn said as Jacqueline returned. "We will go to look for them if they do not return. For now I will take the next watch."  
  
And so they continued taking turns with the watches, but Jacqueline slept not a wink; her father kept her up. 


	18. A Kindred Soul Returns

Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) - still belongs to Tolkien.  
  
A/N: After three days of unpacking, laundry and LOADS of sleep, chapter 18 is finally here. I didn't realize how exhausted I had gotten from that week until I came home. Anyway here's the chapter in its entirety. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 18 - A Kindred Soul Returns  
  
Jacqueline sat huddled in her cloak watching dawn coming upon them. Images of her father still lingered in her mind, and she closed her eyes against them. It was hard for her to understand how she could be the goodness that defies Mordor when such evilness coarsed through her blood. The others began to stir near her, and Jacqueline opened her eyes though not saying a word. They managed a small sort of breakfast without conversation until Boromir spoke.  
  
"Jacqueline, about last night," he began, speaking the thoughts of the other three sitting nearby.  
  
"Boromir, I know what it is you would ask," Jacqueline turned to him. "And in all honesty I cannot bring myself to speak of it."  
  
"I think it might be for the best Jacqueline," Aragorn suggested gently, cleaning his knife. "It may bring some comfort to you in one way or another."  
  
"Please Jacqueline," Gimli urged. "We wish to help."  
  
She hesitated, and Legolas interlaced his slender fingers within her own in silent encouragement, giving her the final push to draw strength from their actions. "My.my episode last night...I.I had a terrible dream."  
  
She stopped, the horrid images flooding back to her mind. Legolas gently squeezed her hand, Gimli nodded for her to continue, and Aragorn and Boromir barely held their eager persistence down.  
  
"I saw...I saw some of what happened to my mother," she continued, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "It was not the orc dens I saw."  
  
"Where was it?" Aragorn pressed spontaneously. It went unnoticed.  
  
"She was immediately taken near Mordor; the screams were proof enough. Locked her in Minas Morgul and." she bit her lower lip to stop the sobs. Over and over again the story rewound and started again, being nearly as agonizing as the torture administered to Celebrian. Again she closed her eyes against it, but after a few moments she was unable to stand it. Hastily she got up and left them in a sort of attempt to banish the anguish. They watched her go, and Boromir and Legolas nearly followed.  
  
"No. Stay," Aragorn ordered. "Hide all evidence that we have been here. I will speak to her."  
  
Reluctantly they listened, and began hiding their camp. Jacqueline had stopped at the eaves of Fangorn, leaning against a proud oak. She had covered her eyes with her forearm to prevent tears but to no avail, and the elbow that supported her grinded against the oak. Aragorn approached her with elven-like silence.  
  
"Jacqueline, forgive me. I had not known that such anguish might lie in your dreams," he began, placing a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head so that her mouth was covered, but did not face him.  
  
"I just do not understand them. Why am I seeing the things I am seeing?" she asked, turning to face him.  
  
He rubbed her shoulder gently, desperately trying to soothe her. "If I knew any comforting words that would help, I would say them Jacqueline. But unfortunately, I am no Gandalf."  
  
She nodded, roughly wiping away her tears like a shameful child. "I know you would Estel, and for that I am grateful." She paused, and gazed into the thickets of Fangorn. "But I tell you now to not concern yourself with my troubles, for they seem to be mine for the dealing."  
  
He shook his head in soft protest and went to speak, but she held up a hand to silence him. "Estel, your troubles and worries are already great without my own added. There are great expectations weighing on you, and great things lie in waiting. I know you and the rest of our Company have sworn to aid me, and I will allow it if and only if the journey allows it."  
  
Aragorn nodded sadly in understanding, knowing that he would not be able to dispute her wishes. He turned back to the others, who had hid their camp well and were now searching about. He was about to go join them when something caught his eyes. He turned to Jacqueline.  
  
"Go on Estel, reassemble the company," she answered, nodding in the direction he had last looked. "I will go on ahead into Fangorn."  
  
"Bur you are half-elven, and have left not a footprint in all our travels. How must I find you?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"You will know the path Estel," she reassured, trying to smile through her sadness. "Trust yourself."  
  
He nodded and walked off, calling the others to him. Jacqueline watched him go and sighed; though she had told him and the others much and shared what she had learned, there was one thing she kept to herself: - that eventually she would leave all of them and go to Mordor. Alone.  
  
Boromir and Legolas walked about the area in hopes of finding some sign of the hobbits; Gimli was doing likewise some distance to their right. They moved slow so as to not miss any slight detail. For the most part no words were spoken, until Legolas felt the need to break the silence.  
  
"Do you think we shall find any sign of the hobbits here?" he asked idly, his sharp eyes focused.  
  
"If we do it will surely be a miracle," Boromir answered, assessing carefully. "I am sure Jacqueline has been right most of our journey, but I am still in need of a sign that our friends did not perish with the orcs."  
  
"What makes you speak such words?" the Elf questioned.  
  
Boromir stopped a moment, thinking he had found something, and Legolas paused as well. It turned out to be nothing, and Boromir stood up as they continued on.  
  
"Her dreams," he answered. "I fear they may be giving her false assurances. Whatever her father is, he is surely evil and seems to be influencing her for the worst."  
  
"I had not thought of that," Legolas admitted. "But I am sure even one such as her would know the difference. The Lord and Lady's wisdom seems to flow through her."  
  
"That is true Legolas; her elvish heritage does flow strong," Boromir agreed. "And yet I still wonder."  
  
Silence settled between them, and they began to run out of places to search. A question began preying on Boromir's mind, a question so persistent it burned both his mind and his heart with curious desperation. They as he might, he could not purge it from himself silently. Giving up the struggle he let the words slip from his lips.  
  
"Legolas, why did you kiss Jacqueline three nights ago?"  
  
The Elf looked at him in shock, and stopped dead in his tracks. Boromir's breath caught in his throat, taking Legolas' reaction as a sign that he was being threatened. It couldn't have been farther from that; Boromir was merely curious about Legolas' feelings toward Jacqueline, and if they were similar to his own.  
  
Legolas sighed and looked away a moment, gathering his thoughts. At last he turned and faced the man.  
  
"In truth Boromir, I know not why I did it. Only that I had to. She has sparked something in me, some strange feeling I have never felt before. I am not yet sure if I may call it love, but I know it is greater than friendship."  
  
"How long have you felt this way?" Boromir enquired.  
  
"Since we ventured forth from Rivendell," Legolas shrugged. He then raised an eyebrow. "Why?"  
  
Boromir looked down. "Because I feel much like you Legolas."  
  
Legolas nodded thoughtfully; he had suspected as much. His feelings towards Jacqueline had become more evident these past few days, carefully showing on his noble face. But pride still flowed through the man, and he was always showing as little as possible. Legolas, on the other hand, was open; he let show what he was feeling regardless of what it was. The only pride he bore was the proud modesty of his abilities. He let out a soft chuckle.  
  
"Legolas? What is so funny?" Boromir asked, looking at him in puzzlement.  
  
"It is strange, is it not?" Legolas countered with a hint of a smile. "A half-elven woman with perhaps the strangest of tales, innocently ensnares a mortal Gondorian warrior and a Sindarin Elf prince. I doubt even she knows the answer to this tale."  
  
"I think it is safe to say she favours you my friend," Boromir replied sadly. The Elf shook his head.  
  
"She is just as confused as we are Boromir," he said assuringly. "But do not let this come between us, for if at the end of the story she finds happiness in you, then all the happier I shall be."  
  
Boromir smiled, grateful that Legolas had not taken offense to the man's words. "As I shall too, should her happiness lie in you."  
  
Aragorn called to all of them suddenly, astonishment and slight excitement laced in his tone. Immediately they ran to where he stood and saw cut ropes, a broken orc knife, a dying mallorn leaf covered in crumbs, many footprints mixed with hoofprints, and one puzzling mystery.  
  
Jacqueline sprinted ahead, praying she was on the right path. Fangorn's ancient patterns were much harder than she had imagined, and the water she heard seemed to come from many directions. There was something in the air which took her breath like a humid day. It was like the very wood was angry and compassionate all at once, as if it knew exactly who she was. Her pace slowed to a standstill and she gazed upwards, questioning the forest silently. No answer was given. Her eyes fell to her surroundings again, and a lapping of water louder than the rest caught her ear. Glancing upwards once more before running to it, her cloak billowing out behind her as her sword bounced against her thigh, she came to two small prints on the bank. She sighed thankfully; she had reached the Entwash. She looked up again, smiling, then spoke to the ancient ears she knew were listening.  
  
"I know completely who I am, but do not be angry with me because I wish no evil upon this wood. Please, I must find my friends, and though my roots lie in Arda, I am still a stranger to it. I must get to Treebeard's Hall; please show me Wellinghall."  
  
As if the wood perceived, and indeed it did, a path opened up to Jacqueline. She knew the way now.  
  
"Diola lleThank you." She replied gratefully, and sped off on her way. The trees rustled contently after her in response.  
  
Four of the Five Hunters stood about, puzzled. The answer to their riddle came in incomplete guesses and provided nothing but barely touchable peace of mind. By the end they had concluded that the hobbits were carried to where the hunters now stood and their feet were bound. The hoofprints and large footprints showed that an orc had carried then, and had been slain by one of the Rohirrim. The mallorn leaf was provided by the hobbits who, hidden by their elven-cloaks, were able to sit and eat the waybread; certainly exhaustion had come upon them. Aragorn's greatest fear lay in the fact that there was no proof of two hobbits even though Jacqueline had said they were both out there. He feared just as she did that her presence may change what she knew.  
  
"Then how did either of the hobbits get a hand free?" Gimli asked.  
  
"I do not know Gimli, nor do I know why they had been carried off. Clearly not to escape; my guess is treachery," Aragorn answered. "For it is now that I am beginning to understand why the foul creatures merely left us behind after grabbing Merry and Pippin. They were ordered to take hobbits alive, which is why us and our camp were not sought. It is likely that a bold orc made the attempt to carry the prisoners to Isengard. That is my story, though others may be forged. Of course, it may not seem much to you without Jacqueline."  
  
"Where has she gone?" the Dwarf asked.  
  
"I let her go ahead into Fangorn alone," the Ranger answered.  
  
"You did what?!" both Legolas and Boromir exclaimed simultaneously. Aragorn nodded, sad but factual.  
  
"But what if she were to become lost, Aragorn?" Legolas asked quietly and calmly. "You have heard her say before she knows not her way around Middle Earth."  
  
"And Fangorn is too vast to search," Boromir agreed. "It is impossible to go searching for both her and our hobbit friends."  
  
"We will just have to trust her," Aragorn replied, turning and heading into the wood.  
  
Jacqueline kept on moving, trusting whatever was guiding her. Perhaps it was the trees she had placed all trust in, or perhaps fate. Or maybe even herself, which seemed most likely. It had just recently occurred to her that she may be doubting herself, that she may be capable of more than she was admitting. Was it possible that Fangorn knew of her doubts, and helped her to see herself for what she really was? Well, she believed it; after all Fangorn was mysterious and not known well, so who knows what it was capable of?  
  
Along the way she came across signs of the hobbits and what she believed to be Treebeard. It made her sigh in relief; nothing had changed so far. When she had put much distance behind her(and some subtle clues should Aragorn's trust slip) she came to Wellinghall, Treebeard's home. The steep stone ledge loomed in front of her, the stairs leading upwards to softer air. Sighing heavily, she cautiously climed the stairs while feeling as though she were being watched or followed. It seemed as though for a time the stairs stretched right on to heaven, butr soon she found its end. The world extended out all around her; she could see the Anduin flowing wild and free in the distance, the Emyn Muil go far and wide, Meduseld a speck on the horizon.  
  
The breeze played with her dark elven-dressed hair as she stood there, wondering what to do next. The rest of her company was probably only halfway to where she stood at best, so going on ahead would be unwise. What to do, what to do.  
  
"Estelwen? Are you up there Estelwen?" a voice called out. It sounded gentle and impatient in the same instant; only one voice ever sounded like that. Jacqueline spun around and gazed down the stairs behind her, where a figure in grey dirty robes stood at its base.  
  
"Ah, there you are," the figure replied, climbing upwards. "I was not sure if you would have gone ahead or stayed out of love for him."  
  
Her brow creased. "How do you know that? I do not even know who he is."  
  
He chuckled as he climbed, leaning on his staff. "You are blind to your own heart, child. It is quite obvious who it is that you love if one looks in the right way. Why can you of all people not see it?"  
  
"I suppose my mind has been concerned with.other things," she answered hesitantly. He paused, and she could see him nod with her elven eyesight.  
  
"Hmm, so he has begun to test you eh? Well, he is moving much quicker than I had thought. This may be harder to unravel now, but we will worry about that in good time. Right now we have other things to discuss."  
  
The companions pressed through the wood led by Aragorn. Intuition drove him, and he obediently followed; he had to get them caught up to Jacqueline quickly. Along their way they came across signs of the hobbits and used it as their guiding line to answers and hopefully their friend. Urgency was great, and for Legolas and Boromir the speed was not great enough to match the urgency. Again Boromir was at a disadvantage; Legolas never knew exhaustion and could keep up the chase when Boromir could not. It was pure adrenelin and determination fueling him now and his limits were greatly being tested. Just when he felt he could go no further Aragorn halted them silently.  
  
They had come to a great staircase, perhaps nearly as old as time itself, and a grey-robed figure was climbing them. The staff the person carried moved fluidly like it was part of the being. At the top of the stairs stood Jacqueline.  
  
She looked slightly alarmed, and took no notice of her companions who stood below. The figure just kept climbing towards her, speaking to her about matters that they did not understand. It was not until the sound of Boromir's sword becoming unsheathed did the figure stop and turned around.  
  
"Ah! Well met friends," the figure, who was clearly male, replied. "Shall I come down, or wait for you to come up?"  
  
He didn't wait for an answer and proceeded downwards. Jacqueline, who had finally spotted the others, came down swiftly and soundlessly after him. The figure had to keep his eyes at his feet as he descended so as not to trip on his own robes, and so he did not see the others draw forth their weapons. Jacqueline did see however, and began running down.  
  
"It is Saruman I am sure of it," Gimli murmured, loosening his axe from his belt. "Let us strike now while we can!"  
  
Aragorn was hesitant, unwilling to strike should it turn out that the man was no danger. Legolas had an arrow drawn and notched to his bow, but would not raise it unless Aragorn was sure the figure meant harm. The man came down closer and closer to them, moving quickly despite his robes and evident old age. When he had gotten to tenn steps from the ground he paused, then jumped towards the left onto a nearby rock. The companions at the bottom followed with freed weapons as Jacqueline stopped five steps from where the old man had jumped, and the man threw off his rags. A bright light emitting from him filled the clearing, and for a moment they were blinded. The light soon faded, the man now being revealed. White were his robes, his hair and beard white and soft like new fallen snow. None could say anything except for Legolas, whose voice only spoke one word.  
  
"Mithrandir!" 


End file.
